


That's why her hair's so big, it's full of secrets

by LittleRoma



Series: Infusion Diaries [16]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: BAMF Hermione, Cross Posted on FFN, Hermione don't have time your crap, I probably shouldn't start another story, oh well, tags to be updated
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-28
Updated: 2017-10-30
Packaged: 2018-10-12 06:00:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 23,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10483755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleRoma/pseuds/LittleRoma
Summary: What if Hermione had a little secret before she left to join Hogwarts.  What if she was able to do more than she let on?





	1. Chapter 1

There will always be threats to face, bigger world problems than before.  Weapons and threats and even illnesses have always developed.  Where before humans could be struck down by a sickness epidemic (for example of course), now people knew to wash and stay clean and for goodness sakes to flush the toilet!  Technological advances could be used to keep humanity safer, for example, newer vaccines, monitoring of potential threats, better and safer computer systems.  These things could both simultaneously save people lives, in potential, but they could also destroy.  For example, what happened when an illness or large scale problem was affected one part of the world but not another?  Large pharmaceutical companies were driven more by profit than anything else at times, so would they go out of their way to save the smaller man?

 

For threats like national, global even universal concerns, the governments of the world and everybody else would inevitably climb atop their soapbox and make promises that they could fix it.  Sometimes, though, it does not come down to governments, with their use of legitimate violence, but it comes down to citizens like you or me to fix this problem.  As William Shakespeare said in his play Twelfth Night: “Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them”, it can mean that anyone can achieve anything. 

 

The government in this case, however, were aware of the threat of the wizarding world civil war spilling out onto regular Britain.  All the accidents, mysterious deaths and such have been monitored; it would be silly to think that it passed completely unremarked.  They didn’t breathe a word of what they were monitoring, about what was going in the press but they knew about it.  Invariably it had to be covered up by things like ‘military practice drills’, or ‘freak weather conditions’, or even ‘classified’, to think that the magical Minister, or whatever the title may happen to be, was supposed to keep the Prime Minister informed of what was happening was laughable.  As per usual, the Magical Minister did not realise just how much he or she, but in this case with Milicent Bagnold, was too caught up in the belief system that what she called ‘Muggles’ were stupid and would not notice just what was going on.  That the Prime Minister was aware of just what was going on and could systematically destroy the Wizarding World is she so wished.

 

It was thanks to an influx of muggle-born students, though within circles of the mundane government they were known as ‘New Blood’ that had become disillusioned with the state of affairs in the Magical world.  Taken into a new world at the age of eleven and separated from your family for nine or ten months a year, anyone would begin to lose touch.  To begin to distance yourself from your parents because you know that oh happy days, things are starting to make sense.  Only to find out that when you graduate from Hogwarts or whatever Wizarding School you choose, that you can’t find a job in your new world simply because of where you came from and who your parents are/were.

 

To realise that you can’t find a job in the world from which you came from because the various wizarding schools do not offer mundane or muggle qualifications.  In the UK for example, there aren’t GCSE or A Level equivalent offered, so unless you want to work in a fast food place, or as a maid, you are stuck.  It wasn’t even this; that stuck completely in the throats of the students; it was the fact that there was no voting, certainly for muggle born persons under the age of thirty or forty, simply because it was argued that the potential voters did not understand the politics in their new world.  Simply because they didn’t have a complete paper trail behind them to back up their identity, rather than just another person who went through missing kids records and stole them all with the aim of voting more or hiding criminal enterprises. To be completely disenfranchised, especially with the knowledge that from 1928 women above the age of 21 were allowed to vote.

 

The fact that the wizarding world was governed by a Wizengamot that was comprised solely of members of ancient houses, noble houses meant that there no new ideas coming through.  The members were older and wanted to keep things in the same way that their grandparents and great-grandparents had known.  It was more a case of the luck of who and where you were born meant that you could mean something, this needless to say was very wrong.

 

The Muggle-born students who came back through and were willing to study reported in the wizarding world, so the current PM and security services were very aware of what was going on.  As a result, large files and cabinets and a whole range of other things were devoted to storing the information gleaned about their secretive (and incredibly ignorant) next door neighbours.

 

As such, they were uniquely placed to keep an eye on the continuing developments within the Wizarding World and report back.  The Muggle Prime Ministers of Great Britain were kept abreast of the happenings within the country.  They knew what was happening when the great Wizarding Wars were being fought.  They knew exactly what was happening, even some of the nitty gritty that neither the Minister for Magic nor the Messenger thought that PM should know.

 

The top levels of the UK government held next to no confidence in the magical world, especially when Millicent Bagnold told Margaret Thatcher the then Prime Minister of Great Britain ‘ _We assert our inalienable right to party_.’  This was coming at a time when Thatcher was already under fire for inexplicable things such as vast quantities of owls moving in the daylight and strange incidences of some fireworks exploding during the daytime hours.

 

Even an idiot could see that one day the already shaky and fragile peace currently being experienced by those in the Wizarding World would fracture at some point.  It has been clear to anyone reading between the lines that any forms of justice derived shortly after the Wizarding War that the Wizarding Government were not looking out for the rank and file of their citizens.  Rather they seemed to be looking out for the very rich or the citizens who able to grease some palms.  As depressing as it was, wasn’t that simply the way of the world?

 

It should not be so, but this was sadly the way of the world and far from believing in insipid things like prophecies but in countless meetings between the higher levels of the British Governments and Royalty had decided that the young Princess was their best chance to handle the situation.  Care was taken towards decisions on whether members of the Wizarding World could be approached.  It was finally decided that certain members could be approached, but carefully.

 

As such plans were made and put into place that the Princess should be taught to read everything she could and enjoy the effects of a completely fit lifestyle.  She had undertaken the additional course, her grandparents wanting her to learn some more grey magic, all in the hope that she could one day survive anything that this world had thrown at her.

 

The training had been hard, for they couldn’t completely explain to a young Hermione why she was going to have to train, at least until she turned eight years old and was more ready to gain a complete picture of why she had been training.  And right now, Hermione was so glad that she had read all of those additional books.

 

At one stage she might not have understood the reason for her grandparent's paranoia but right now when she was running for her life, she had never been so glad.  But now it was all starting to make sense.

 

* * *

 

All that training was certainly coming in handy tonight, Hermione had never taken anyone’s life, and she didn’t intend to start.  But right now it was disturbingly tempting to take a life; she found herself asking what had possessed her to follow Harry to London, all because her angry friend believed that his godfather might be in trouble.  Hermione had not been shocked when they hadn’t discovered that Sirius Black was there.  That the whole thing was a trap.  If they ever got out of this, she was going to make sure that Harry knew just what his impatience and all-around short-sightedness could have cost him.

 

Hermione was so glad that she silenced, knocked out and bound Antonin Dolohov have read files on the man before that detailed the man’s favourite curse.  Because had read so many files on the man and magic to know that the purple fire curse did not tend to leave survivors at least with at the very minimum life alternating and long-lasting consequences.  So, while it might seem like she was paranoid taking so many precautions she didn’t want to see any of her friends have to go through that struggle.

 

She had run on, engaging Bellatrix Lestrange in a fight when the crazy vindictive harpy had broken Neville Longbottom’s nose.  She had felt completely sickened when the file detailing Lestrange’s vendetta against the Longbottom family was coming to the fore.  She had read scads of information and summaries of information detailing everything that had happened between the Lestrange family and the Longbottom family.

 

Hermione had read information that suggested that something had happened in previous generations where the Longbottom family had wronged the Lestrange family.  Or at least the Lestrange family believed that the Longbottom family had wronged them.  The information was sketchy at best; there hadn’t been enough information for Hermione to completely paint a complete picture.

 

But all that mattered now was that when a young Bellatrix had married into the family, she had learned of the feud and taken it even farther.  She had cursed Neville’s parents so badly that the two of them had been in a state of a coma ever since Neville had been a baby, leaving the young child to grow up in the care of his vicious battle-axe of a grandmother.  It was time for the ball to start rolling, Hermione was going to see to it that things greatly changed.

 

Right now, though, staying alive was Hermione’s top priority.

 

Ducking from a Crucio curse sent to her by Lucius Malfoy, Hermione pressed on with an incredible set of curses towards Bellatrix Lestrange.  Hermione pressed on and smirked, sending a volley of deadly purple fire curses towards Lestrange.  The woman across from her roared in agony as she saw the purple flames shooting towards her.  Somehow, the crazy lady had ducked away from the flames, how could she have done that if she had spent so long in a prison how could she have had the strength and speed to duck away from curses.

 

Distracted when the doors to the room suddenly burst open, with some of the adult members of the Order of the Phoenix came rushing in.  Glancing up she saw more than heard Sirius Black bellowing with rage at the sight of his ‘beloved’ cousin.  Seeming to fly in his rage down the steps in the Death Chamber, he took up the battle against his cousin.  Hermione turned away from Lestrange and tag-teamed with Harry to try and defeat Malfoy.

 

Hermione found her attention was split when she heard Lestrange taunting Sirius, reminding Sirius of all that he had lost, his friends.  The two were duelling near the creepy Curtain that she had only come across in the briefest of footnotes and whispers of legends that had long since passed into myth.  She heard Luna mention that the Curtain was a death curtain and while Hermione was not completely sure, Luna had been eerily certain that the Curtain could connect this world with the next.

 

Summoning some of the more esoteric knowledge to her, Hermione did something that she wasn’t even sure was possible.  She both summoned and banished Sirius to a closed, locked room in a secret location.  She knew that she probably shouldn’t have done that, not when she wasn’t completely sure if it would work.

 

Hearing the ominous creaking from above her head, Hermione glanced up and noticed as the ceiling was beginning to spider web into more and more small cracks fissuring out.  Hermione wasn’t a structural engineer, and until now she had avoided studying up on any detailed knowledge on the subject, but maybe she should start.

 

Hermione was startled from her reverie when she heard Harry bellow out in rage, did Harry think that because Sirius Black had disappeared, he was dead? 

 

Was Lestrange attempting to taunt him with the idea that she had taken his precious godfather away from him?  Because Hermione had personally seen to it that hadn’t happened.  At least she hoped that she had seen to it, she genuinely wasn’t 100% sure what happened in the Death Chamber (capitalisation needed).

 

Glancing over at Lupin, and seeing the anguish in his eyes as glanced down at his hands, presumably cursing his luck, fearful that his nephew was going to do something stupid.  Hermione knew that Harry seemed to constantly lurch from one stupid situation to the next, only seeming to survive on a dumb luck flowing through his veins.

 

Shaking her head, she knew that she would have to run after Harry.  She just hoped she could catch up with him before he did something incredibly stupid.  Turning around she sprinted out of the room, intent on finding her wayward friend and possibly wringing his scrawny little neck for dragging them all into this mess.

 

Putting one foot in front of the other, Hermione flew up past the steps facing the arch with the fluttering curtain; she barely slowed down to glance over at Neville, who had broken his nose when a wayward fist had smashed into his nose leaving blood streaming from his nose down to his collar.  Neville’s legs were waving in the air like an overturned beetle, and a worried pink-haired Tonks was leaning over him her lips moving as she tried to find the correct counter-curse.

 

Lurching to a sudden halt when she burst through the door to the circular room with the many doors, Hermione pressed her eyes closed not wanting to become dizzy when the room started to spin around her.  Opening her eyes, Hermione felt a small sense of relief as the door with the flaming cross was in front still merrily burning away.  Maybe her life was beginning to look up.

 

Wrenching the door open, Hermione ran full tilt towards the lifts.  Flying over the short flight of stairs before the lift, Hermione passed by a groaning Ginny Weasley her head leant to the side with a pained grimace crossing her face.  Not wanting to stop and see if her red-headed was stop, Hermione briefly shook her head, making a mental note to check on her friend later.

 

Hammering the button to the lift, Hermione groaned as the lift seemed to take a long time in coming.  Finally, the lift stopped in front of her; the doors opening as Hermione threw herself through the doors.  Spinning on her heels as she slammed her hand on the button for the lobby, shifting her weight from foot to foot, as she watched the brass dial showing the slow ascent of the lift up to the lobby.  Nervously taking out the bobble from her hair and tying it all back up again trapping all of the errant flyaway hairs.  Balancing on the balls of her feet, Hermione hopped up and down again; she prepared herself to go and enter into God only knows what.

 

Finally, the bell to the lift rang, prompting her to take a deep breath of Oxygen, forcing herself to remain in control.  Running from the lift, Hermione lifted her arms trying to protect herself from the raining of glass shards from piercing her face.  Wincing as she felt the glass bouncing off her arms leaving small shooting pains emanating from every point of impact.  Skidding to a sudden stop, as she took in the scene in front of her, it looked a magnificent battle was being fought between Voldemort and Dumbledore, both of them shooting at each other from their wands.  Her eyes scanning the room, she took in Harry cowered beneath the golden statues that had obviously been taken from the large, proud, beautiful statue in the centre of the atrium.

 

Not wanting to overplay her hand, Hermione dawdled at the corner of the elevator biting her lip trying to choose who she goes and help.  Her friendship is winning out she ran over towards Harry, who had crumpled down beneath the statues roaring out with pain.  Hermione skidded to a stop, trying to figure out what her next step should be, no amount of reading could ever prepare her for seeing her friend in what Harry was acting like he was in intense agony.  Attempting to move the statue by her hands but having no such luck, the damn thing must have weighed a tonne; there was no way she could shift it on her own, not without working out a small crane type system on the fly.  And she was fresh out of ideas.

 

Hermione ducked out of the way when the heavy golden statue was suddenly launched through the air.  Watching as her friend curled over into a foetal position clutching at his head, roaring out in agony, Hermione felt a sickness she had never felt before clutching at her stomach.  Hermione felt like she did know what she could do, knowing that her friend was in intense agony.

 

“THIS IS YOUR GREAT CHAMPION DUMBLEDORE?  I SEE NOTHING THAT MAKES THIS CHILD WORTHWHILE; HE IS WORTH NOTHING, HE HAS ONLY ESCAPED DEATH AND ENCOUNTERING ME THROUGH LUCK NOT THROUGH ANY GREAT SKILL.  WHAT IS TO STOP ME FROM ENDING HIM HERE.  I ALREADY HAVE THE WIZARDING WORLD IN MY GRASP WHAT IS TO STOP ME FROM SIMPLY KILLING THIS WRETCHED CHILD” Hermione heard Voldemort bellowing at Dumbledore.

 

Hearing the roaring of the fireplaces, Hermione’s head shot over in the direction of the fireplaces watching them begin to spontaneously light up, spitting out the political leaders.  All of Hermione’s attention was diverted towards the fireplaces; she found a small sense of satisfaction as she watched Fudge tumble from the fireplaces.

 

Hearing a THWIPPING noise come behind her, only to spot a red light shooting towards her.  It was too late for her to duck out of the way, she felt the impact of the red light hitting her chest making her lose consciousness instantly.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione wakes up and gets bad news

Hermione felt herself coming to consciousness gradually.  Remembering some of her hard-fought lessons from when she was growing up and constantly training, Hermione did not automatically open her eyes but rather opened up her ears.  Hermione could tell by some of the voices surrounding her, that she was in the Hospital Wing, nobody seemed even to realise that she was awake, at least judging by some of the topics they were discussing.

 

She could pick up discussions about the current magical political sphere; she wasn’t sure if she would be able to hear such discussions if people knew that she was awake.  Judging from some of the comments she had heard, it sounded like Fudge had taken his head out of the sand and had started to prepare the British Wizarding World for war.  But it did seem like some of the known members were not happy with Fudge’s response, but Hermione thought to herself rather cynically that people were rarely completely happy with government responses.

 

“No, it just doesn’t seem to be anything radical new strategy, it just seems to be them trying to cover their tracks and trying to avoid alarming citizens.”

 

That sounded like Remus Lupin’s angry, broken sounding voice.  Hermione wasn’t sure if anyone had thought to inform the man that there was even the slightest hint of a chance that Black may still be alive.  It might seem like a needless cruelty not telling the man Hermione’s suspicions, but until Hermione knew more, she didn’t want to needlessly build up the man’s hopes only to burn them down to the ground if it turned out that she was wrong.

 

“Oh, I just hope that we’re able to get back in touch with Percy now, not that the government knows he should come to us now shouldn’t he Arthur?”

 

Hermione inwardly winced, she hated disappointing anyone, but Mrs Weasley didn’t seem to register that through her overbearing fussing mother hen tendencies were just doing the complete opposite and pushing her kids further away.  Hermione made a mental note to check whether or not Percy Weasley was spying for them, she wasn’t sure, on the one hand, Percy Weasley had seemed to become one with the massive stick stuck up his ass with a burgeoning sense of superiority.  Had they managed to ‘turn’ him before he left his family?  Or was he a stick in the mud.

 

She could hear the dulcet tones of Ron, muttering to himself about the absolute mess the horrible journey to London was.  Hermione guessed that the trip to London carried with its devastating consequences because even if no one had died, it was only an incredibly close thing.  Especially given some of the injuries suffered that she could remember from her mad dash through the Department of Mysteries.  She could well remember seeing Ginny with a broken ankle, Neville had a broken nose, and of course, Ron had that minor accident in the room with all of the brains.

 

“Was Hermione the worst injured?  It was horrible there Mum; I don’t think I’ve ever given Harry enough credit for all of that nastiness that he has to face every damn year.”

 

“Oh, I know my little Ronnikins I know, Mummy is going protect you, I promise you won’t ever have to face any more nasty war situations.”

 

“Mum, please just stop, Harry is my best friend, if this thing gets much worse, I’m going to be there with him every step of the way if it comes to that.”

 

See?

 

Mrs Weasley was only going to push her kids away if she insisted on babying them.

 

Hermione didn’t need to open her eyes to see that Ron’s ears had turned red, whether in anger or embarrassment as he spoke to his mother.  She briefly wondered whether or not she could ‘wake up’ now, maybe it was time to begin the process of waking up.

 

Shifting her weight in the small medical bed, Hermione opened her eyes, allowing her friends to see that she was now awake.  Slowly blinking her eyes as she took in the sights around her, it was not Hermione’s first time lying in a Hospital bed, not in Hogwarts at any rate, that honour belonged to the time of Hermione’s second year when she got stuck as a weird cat girl.  That particular incident had left Hermione with some rather odd catlike tendencies from time to time.  Though Hermione had been eternally grateful that she didn’t still have a tail or furry ears, though would’ve been difficult to explain.  She had been left with a more nocturnal circadian rhythm, an intense love of milk, heightened reflexes and an oddly sensitive hearing and sense of smell.

 

It was so difficult to explain when she tended to jump and act skittish around dogs when she was exhausted.

 

Trying to work out why she felt as if her torso was covered in bandages.  Hermione swung her gaze around the room trying to work out what had happened to her when she had been abruptly knocked unconscious.  She couldn’t work out what had happened, but she felt a small burning sensation across her chest that was already making her feel nervous.  Startled out of the feeling of not knowing what had happened when she saw Madam Pomfrey coming towards the bed, Hermione tried to push herself up the bed, watching as Pomfrey hurried towards the bed.

 

“No, no child, don’t try to sit up, you don’t want to disturb your bandages” Pomfrey tried to scold the young witch.

 

Madam Pomfrey placed a hand on Hermione’s shoulder and at the same time, reached behind her to pull the curtain surrounding the bed closed.  Hermione watched as Madam Pomfrey reached out for her wand and waved it round the curtains surrounding the bed, muttering to herself.  Sighing to herself in relief when she guessed that the spell must have blocked off the sound from outside of the curtains so that the people sitting outside wouldn’t be able to hear any of the details the two women discussed.

 

“Alright, Miss Granger, you were hit by a spell, that cut opens your chest, it was like some your rib cage could contain some of the blood.  And because it was Dark Magic, you will always have a scar, but even a raised scar is preferable to death.  Sorry about that.  Now Miss Granger, you also mildly sprained your left ankle, it seems like you’ve been putting additional weight through the ankle on a regular basis.  Anything you would like to explain.” Madam Pomfrey briskly explained to a worried Hermione, tilting her head to the side as she considered the woman in the bed.

 

“The society has approached you, haven’t you?” Hermione checked not wanting to overplay her hand and let Madam Pomfrey in on more secrets that she needed to know.

 

“Yes, I’ve been approached but I haven’t been read in on all of the secrets, would you like to let know more, so I know how to protect the students.” Madam Pomfrey raised her eyebrow daring Hermione to say more.

 

“Alright, well you know that we’ve been tasked to change things for other Muggleborns within the Wizarding World, supporting them in getting qualifications and meaningful jobs after they leave Hogwarts?  Well, I’m the woman at the centre of it all, because I’ve used a Time Turner, I’m technically about two years older than my passport says.  My status in the mundane world, and who my Grandparents are the Society was formed when some of the higher echelons of the Mundane British Government were getting tired of the way the way the Magical World treated them like ignorant idiots not being to read which way the wind is blowing.  I have kept fit because I know that if this war comes to pass, I could be in thick of it, especially given who I was able to make friends with, would only lead me into the thicker and more dangerous situations.  Do you have to report this further up?  I mean to Dumbledore?” Hermione asked worriedly.

 

“No, no, he doesn’t get to hear any of this information.  Now, Miss Granger, I want to stay on bed rest for another two weeks, glad we’ll be getting home then and even then, just take it easy.  Would you like me to keep an eye on you over the summer?” Madam Pomfrey asked as she started to tap her foot up and down, waiting for Hermione’s answer.

 

“Yes, please, if you wouldn’t mind.  Do you foresee any problems with my recovery?”

 

“No, as long as you don’t get into any more battle situations.” Madam chided Hermione before letting out a sigh and continuing “Would you like me to keep an eye on you even further?  I’m a bit concerned with how this injury may affect your, well, your ah ability to reproduce naturally in the future, but I can’t be sure until I can talk to the magical equivalent of an OB-GWN, that’s it isn’t it?”

 

“It’s an OB-GYN Madam Pomfrey, and if you could, I haven’t even thought about whether or not I want kids in the future.” Hermione trailed off as thoughts began to suddenly occur to her as if she had never thought about and had never imagined she would have to think about until she was ready to have kids.

 

“Very well, pet.  Now’s that’s the end of that, would you like me to open the curtains and release the privacy spells again?” Madam Pomfrey looked down at the women in the bed.

 

“Yeah, yeah, that will be fine, just please don’t tell them or anyone any of this please?” Hermione asked still looking like she had just been given a lot of information to ruminate over.

 

“Child, unless I think that your injuries were either as a result of someone else harming you or you are harming yourself, then I am not obligated to tell anyone.  Anything that your say or do in here is private unless you say that I can share, nothing goes beyond you or me.”

 

Hermione watched as Madam Pomfrey spun away from her, and waved her wand over the curtains, allowing the sound from the rest of the ward to rush back again making Hermione gather her thoughts.  Glancing round as the sound of the curtain drawn forced Hermione to shake her head as she tried to swallow back once again her thoughts.  Now she would have to listen to see what the other made of their ill-fated trip to London.  That would no doubt be important if Hermione wanted to report to her superiors what some of the aftermath of that particular visit.

 

Trying not to visibly startle when she looked up and saw the kindly brown eyes of Molly Weasley peering down at her in a matronly fashion.  Hermione looked back at the woman, who bustled down towards the end of the bed, attempting to reach for the small clipboard of medical notes.

 

“Mrs Weasley, you can’t do that, can she do that Madam Pomfrey?” Hermione asked, in some alarm.

 

“Mrs Weasley, you aren’t allowed to look into someone else’s medical notes, unless that student wishes for you to have access to their medical notes, you can’t look through them.” Madam Pomfrey admonished the heavy-set red-headed woman.

 

“Oh, but it’s just Hermione, her parents aren’t here, I should be able to look through those notes so I can know how to look after Hermione here over the summer.  You are coming to our house, aren’t you dear?”

 

“Um, maybe later in the summer but I still have some things I want to do before I finalise my summer arrangements.  My notes are private, and I don’t want just anyone to have access to them.”

 

“Oh, but it’s just me dear, are you sure you don’t want me to read them?” Mrs Weasley tried to push once again.

 

“Molly, leave it alone if Hermione said that she didn’t want anyone else to have access to those notes, then she doesn’t want anyone else to have access to those notes.  She isn’t one of ours; we can’t force our way in” Mr Weasley cut in before Hermione could blow up in a rage.  It was probably a good thing that he had cut in judging by the red that Hermione’s face was beginning to take on.

 

“Hmph, well very well, excuse me for just wanting to keep an eye on Hermione.” Mrs Weasley snorted either not noticing or ignoring that she was making everyone else in earshot uncomfortable.

 

Hermione glanced over at the despondent figure Remus Lupin cut in front of the large windows, Hermione wasn’t sure if he could even see anything out of the large windows, or if he was just staring into space.  Maybe he was simply staring out into the beautiful sunshine soaking everything they touched in the Hogwarts grounds or if he simply wanted to keep his grief private, which was, of course, his prerogative.  Hermione found herself feeling more than a little disappointed with Harry for leaving them all to their own devices in the face of his grief.  She thought that if because Harry was the sole reason they all charged off to London, then he should be with them while they recovered.  Or even near his presumed deceased Godfather’s best friend as they shared in their grief together.  But whatever, you know Hermione wasn’t going to let herself become that petty, she understood that sometimes her friend needed some distance from everyone else and wasn’t going to keep him from his sense of desolate grief.

 

The rest of the day would pass Hermione by in a bit of a blur, as she allowed herself to succumb to some of the last vestiges of pain emanating from her chest area and dozed fitfully throughout the rest of the afternoon.

 

Her dreams were the scary mixed-up things that swam before her eyes making it difficult for her to distinguish between reality and a horrible fiction that was genuinely too horrible for her to think about.  If Hermione knew anything about herself and her friends then the actions of their mistaken raid tonight could take weeks if not months for them to come to terms with.  If the price was as high as Madam Pomfrey suspected it was going to be for Hermione, then it may take her years to come to completely accept the price.  As it stood it felt like Hermione was now standing on the precipice of an awful decision and she felt the horribly familiar feeling of a situation was going to come to her, making everything change.

 

Resolutely closing her eyes and attempting to settle her mind, Hermione thought to herself that there was a chance that sleep would now be the best thing for her.

 

At least in this part of her recovery.

 

Who knows what would happen to her tomorrow.

 

That was for tomorrow to worry about.

 

She would have to simply close her eyes and not think about some of the horrible things that were about to come to pass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like comment guys?


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione continues to suffer and listens to more arguments between the two youngest Weasley siblings.

Hermione tried once again to calm herself, as she made her way down to the Great Hall for the great Leaving Feast.  She felt more than a little sick to her stomach especially after consuming all the potions she was now taking in the aftermath of the Disastrous Flight and Fight in the Department of Mysteries in London™.  Hermione’s stomach had been rebelling on an almost daily basis, making her feel like she was going to throw up constantly.  In some of her more irritable moments she thought to herself that the symptoms she was now experiencing were somewhat similar to pregnancy.

 

So at least if she didn’t get to experience a pregnancy she got to feel some of rather unpleasant side effects of early pregnancy!

 

Still, at least she wasn’t in tremendous amounts of pain; it was a rather more manageable and palatable sense of agony, one which she sometimes felt more accustomed to dealing with.  So, she had that going for her!

 

Shaking her head once again, Hermione brought herself back to the present with a jolt.  One of the side effects of the medication seemed to be that it clouded Hermione’s ever important thought processes.  Trying to remind herself that she was once again sat in the Great Hall, surrounded by hundreds of the other students clad in their black school robe, pointed hats perched jauntily on their heads.  Around her the students were shouting towards one another, as they filed in through the double doors, talking excitedly with one another about their exams being over and freedom was about to be tasted away from some of the school assignments.  She could smell the perfumes, aftershaves, fancy lotions, shampoos and conditioners all colliding in the air to give a rather apt feeling of teenagers going through puberty all trying to make a mark on the world.  Beneath her feet and butt she could feel the vibrations of many feet moving, as the students came in taking their places and seats among one another.

 

Dang it, it seemed as if one of the other side effects of the medication was a disturbing propensity for overly floral language.  She wasn’t sure if she had ever used as many adjectives in one space before!

 

Simply marvellous really!

 

Shaking her head once again as she heard Ron calling out to her, she tuned back into the conversation now midway through,

 

“That was a trip that I won’t want to make anytime soon, but I don’t really think that is what London is like, where are you from Hermione?”

 

“London, I’m from London, but really all round the country it seems some days, but no you’re right Ron, London might seem chaotic and busy from time to time, but it really is a beautiful city.  I wouldn’t tarnish it all with the one brush, just based on one unfortunate outcome.”

 

“Yeah?  Well, I suppose it is, but excuse me if I’m not in too much of a rush to go back, at least not after last night.  I just feel really bad for Harry after all that.” Ginny whispered pointedly reminding the other two whisper, looking round at them, almost challenging the two of them to speak up.

 

“Oh, Sirius, I know that was bad, but if it was you Gin, I doubt that you wouldn’t have done the exact same thing if it hadn’t been your godparents on the line.”

 

“That doesn’t matter, Harry needs to remember that there were other people there with him in the Department of Mysteries.  And he needs to know that we can only support him and be there for him if he allows us.” Ginny whispered looking over at her brother, trying to implore once again to his better side.

 

“I don’t know Ginny but that sounds selfish, let him have some time to himself, so he can try and figure out where he stands on everything before you start to put him in an impossible position” Neville cut in trying to remind the squabbling brother and sister that they were in the Great Hall along with the rest of the school.

 

Hermione didn’t want to be drawn into the argument, so she tried to push herself further down into her seat, she was faced with a rather unfortunate dilemma, should she speak up and try to defend the guy or should she try and listen in on her friends.  Maybe she could find more intel in that way?

 

“You should give him time to grieve and come to the realisation that everything has completely changed for him.  I’ve been there and trust me but it’s the hardest thing to come to grips with.” Ron tried to explain with the oddest expression on his face.  Hermione didn’t even feel like she had the energy to cut through the boy’s micro-expressions.  That seemed like a fruitless exercise even when Hermione didn’t feel like she had been put through the wringer.

 

“I get that, but I said it before and he really needs to remember that we are here for him during this difficult time, but he needs to be there for us.” Ginny was starting to strike Hermione as being slightly selfish and showing a certain amount of immaturity.

 

“You really shouldn’t be talking like this, not so out in the open Ginny.”

 

“Well, if I’m not going to say it who will?”

 

“ _Ciúnas, le bhur detoil_ ” Ron tried to bark at his little sister warningly.

 

“Well, it seems like I’m the only one who cares about the man, where and who has he been spending his time with?” Ginny asked, looking once again like she had a fire burning in her eyes.

 

“I dunno, it seems like he has been spending all his time with Looney”

 

“RONALD!  You can’t say that about someone, she was the one who got us to London, so would the two of you shut up and allow the rest of us to eat in peace?” Hermione warned the brother and sister, getting fed up with their constant bickering.  Was it really so bad that she just wanted a meal, where she didn’t feel the need to bang her head against the table?  Just to block out the noise of the twos constant sniping at one another?

 

The two looked rather shame faced down at the table.  Hermione watched the two for a few seconds before she went back to her delicious meal of roast beef.  Why was she friends with the two?  Ron seemed to take great delight in maligning Hermione’s and what he perceived as her heritage and Ginny just seemed a bit _too_ slippery for Hermione’s liking.  She didn’t feel any particular need to listen to the two and she was pretty sure that the rest of Gryffindor would probably thank her for shutting them up!

 

Madame Pomfrey had allowed Hermione to skip the painkillers that overly dulled her mind.  Hermione had compromised that she didn’t want to become like a walking zombie, but Madame Pomfrey had refused to let Hermione go without any drugs in her system that would help to dull some of the pain.  As Hermione’s grandfather was fond of saying ‘a good compromise leaves everyone upset’, something which Hermione found she increasingly understood.

 

UGH, Hermione thought to herself that she probably could have done with some more painkillers. 

 

That backache didn’t seem to want to anywhere!  Why did her pain seem to emanate out from her chest and hurt everything in its path?

 

Harry hadn’t turned up for the Feast, which Hermione considered that Ginny had a point how could Harry expect his friends to support him if he didn’t allow them in?  A small part of herself that she tried to tell to shut up, was a little annoyed that Harry couldn’t even be bothered to show to check on his friends and their injuries.  Well, that was a lie, he had come to the Hospital Wing a few times, but Hermione found herself feeling disappointed that the guy hadn’t made more of an effort.  Especially considering that his friends had all become injured ever since he dragged them to London, on what Hermione privately considered was a fool’s errand.  But running a hand through her hair once again Hermione thought that she honestly wasn’t sure if it still counted as a fool’s errand if she honestly wasn’t sure if she had managed to save Sirius.

 

Digging into her food, Hermione began to eat, once again showing her manners and eating with her back held straight, her head held up and bringing her fork to her mouth.  Unlike Ronald who seemed to lay into his food like a starving man at a buffet, and didn’t seem to know how to keep his mouth closed while he had food in there.

 

Eugh, those mashed potatoes didn’t look so good all chewed up mulchy and gross.

 

Hermione considered what she was going to do this summer, no doubt her trainers (who Hermione thought should really have been informed of the Geneva Convention, but she would likely thank the small team when the War began in earnest) would want Hermione to start working out more.  She wouldn’t like to have to explain that she had been cursed when her back had been turned.

 

No doubt her trainers would expect Hermione to study until she was significantly improved her grip of understanding strategies.  Hermione just wanted to sleep for a while, after her exams were over the group were hurled right into a conflict type situation and then straight into recovery.  At least when Hermione had been in the early stages of her recovery she was sleeping more to aid in her recovery.  It didn’t stop her from always waking up completely exhausted, often plagued by nightmares that stopped her from sleeping.  She couldn’t even use a Dreamless Sleep Potion because it interfered with some of her more hardcore painkillers.  So she had to suffer through some horrific nightmares, and some rather odd dreams, she had dreamt a pink elephant attempting to do the conga in her trunk hadn’t she?

 

When dessert was served Hermione just took a small amount of apple tart, telling herself that it would be rude not to take a slice.  Especially when the tart was so delicious.  Deciding to be have a few scoops of vanilla ice cream, instead of a dollop of whipped cream, Hermione dug in.  Opening up her ears, Hermione thought that it was probably a good thing that the general din in the hall had vastly decreased, it seems as if everyone was thinking the same thing.

 

Looking across the Hall, Hermione saw Luna nibbling on a cookie, frowning to herself when she took in Luna’s hunched figure, wondering what had led to Luna looking like she was even extra tense.  Allowing her eyes to drift over the rest of the table, Hermione saw a few of the older girls sending Luna dirty looks.  With a sense of disappointment Hermione saw that Cho in particular had a tense and confrontational body language and judging from how she was glaring at Luna.  Hermione made a note in her mind to keep in contact with Luna over the summer, she would probably be able to see things that the group had missed.  It was something for her to keep in mind at any rate!

 

“You’re pretty quiet Hermione, what’s wrong?” Neville asked a quiet Hermione.

 

“Oh, I’m in a lot of pain, but I’m just trying to ignore some of that pain to enjoy my last night here, before we all break up for the summer.” Hermione explained to her, trying to smile a little bit at the guy.  Though Hermione was pretty sure that her smile was coming out as a bit more of a grimace through some of her pain.

 

“Will you be safe at home, in the Mundane World, it seems like He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is really ramping up his reign of terror?” Neville asked concerned for his friend.

 

“Yeah, I should be, no one here really knows where I live, so it won’t be easy for any Death Eaters to find me.” Hermione smiled.

 

“What are you talking about Hermione, I’ve wrote you letters before?  I do have your address.” Ginny cut in asking.

 

“Ginny, do you want to rephrase that?  It sounded a little bit like a threat.” Neville frowned looking over at his red-headed friend gesturing to Hermione to explain.

 

“No, you don’t, because you see I don’t live at that address, that’s’ a PO box.” Hermione smiled, internally grateful that her grandparents were surrounded by overly suspicious people.

 

“What’s a PO box, wouldn’t Hogwarts have your address Mione?” Ronald asked, thankfully his mouth was not full when he asked the question.

 

“Don’t call me that Ronald!  My family have moved house since I started at Hogwarts and a PO Box is a box where you can receive packages and the like without having to give out your address.” Hermione tried to explain without giving away too much information surrounding her upbringing.

 

“But, anyway, you’ll be safe right?” Neville shook his head looking in concern towards his bookworm friend.

 

“Yeah, I’ll be fine don’t worry.  What’s your plans for the summer Neville?” Hermione changed the subject, she wasn’t sure if Neville had been informed of some of the plans that Hermione group were putting into motion surrounding the Longbottom family.

 

“I really want to spend some more time in my greenhouse, there are a few plants that I want to work with some new plants see if I can plant them.”

 

“That sounds good, are you expecting to be able to do anything with the plants?” Hermione asked, glad to have changed the subject of her own personal safety.

 

“I’ve seen some evidence that the plants can be linked to uses in potions for the mind, but I’m not that great at potions, so I want to see if I can grow them.” Neville explained.

 

“Yeah, but do you think you can grow them?” Ginny butted in once again, inviting herself into conversations that she really wasn’t invited to in the first place.

 

“Yes, I’ve checked some of the journal articles and I think I can grow them.  I’ve talking to Madame Sprout, and I think I can do it.  I just need to make sure that my greenhouse is kept heated and I should be able to do it.  They aren’t that difficult to growing standard plants.”

 

“Alright, Longbottom you don’t need to go on and on about plants, no one cares” Ron scowled, once again showing his people skills.

 

“Oi!  Leave him alone Ronald, it good that Neville has interests outside of Quidditch Plays and Food” Hermione cautioned her friend, becoming very annoyed with her friend.

 

“Thank you Hermione, I really love Herbology and it’s the one subject I’m good at, I hate it when people denigrate the subject simply because it isn’t flashy or cool to love the subject.” Neville gratefully thanked his friend, the light in his eyes that reflected his love for herbology shining through.

 

“That’s fine, it’s important to me that we all have our own interests.  And can I thank you again for helping me in studying for the Herbology OWL, it was completely needed.”

 

“That’s not a problem Hermione, did you think it helped Hermione?  While we’re talking about thanks, can I also thank you for the help in studying for the Transfiguration OWL.  I’m honestly not sure if I could have passed the exam without going into a nervous breakdown” Neville laughed self-consciously while lifting a hand to rub at the neck.

 

“I think so, I definitely wasn’t making the connection between some of the plant usages and the essay on some of the said usages.  I was never able to make the connections between some of the uses, I’m more of a linear thinker rather than a lateral thinker.”

 

“I know, I can tell, but is it alright if I write to you over the summer?  Will the letters go through to the PO Box?” Neville asked Hermione.

 

“Yeah, it will, I might be moving around a lot this summer, but I should be able to get your letters and be able to reply to them.” Hermione told the guy, not wanting to lose her friendship with the guy in front of her.

 

* * *

 

 

That been yesterday, Hermione had made plans to continue speaking with Neville over the summer break, not wanting to cut herself away from that friendship.  Not while she could Neville beginning to flourish, the battle in London had seemed to strip away some of the self-conscious shell of the boy or rather the man.

 

Over the year, Hermione had observed how the guy had come more into himself, he had perhaps felt more confident went he knew that she had friends ready to back up his moves, and even just to sit and eat or study with.

 

Hermione wished that she had paid a bit more attention to the guy before, who knew the kinds of intellectual discussions she could have had with the guy before.  Who knew the quiet guy could be so intelligent?  Hermione suspected that the guy was so quiet before, because as it turned out that as soon as Neville had gotten his own wand, his scores in school could have greatly improved.  That was probably something for her to play with in her mind, could she risk taking Neville out from underneath his Grandmother’s tightly controlled grasp?  It might not be technically feasible, but just some food for thought.

 

She was probably going to have an interesting summer, it would just be a matter of when the time for action would arrive.

 

Hermione knew that she would have to be ready to run at a moment’s notice.

 

She would have to practice the ability to a run for it.

 

There was a war coming and Hermione would be at the centre of it, she would have to survive it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always comments and the Kudos are always appreciated. Thanks to the Anonymous commenter who just posted YAAASSSSS that made me laugh.
> 
> I'm not anticipating too much disruption but I've got a uni exam coming up, so that might steal away a good portion of my focus. Check my tumblr, [LittleRoma](https://littleroma.tumblr.com/) where I can always be found (and I'm always accepting prompts) for a nice wee chat


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Filler chapter more introspective than anything

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, sorry it took me so long to update this, I had exams at the start of June (I can't even remember if I put a note at the end of the last update, or only on the last update to EIHN, which would be 2 chapters back now), so after that I had to remember how to write and sleep. Dear Lord I got drunk on sleep!

Hermione knew that the previous year had been incredibly stressful, between the new interference from the Ministry, her rather intense approach to the most recent exams she had sat.  And of course, you couldn’t forget the small battle-type situation the group had found themselves just a few short days or was that weeks ago?  She wasn’t sure, beginning her recovery from some of the wounds she had picked had led her to losing consciousness a few times and losing her grip on reality and normality.  Hermione hoped that some of her tutors would allow the time to recover before they started to dig into on her training regime.  The fact that she was still wincing a little when she moved in the wrong way wasn’t a good sign.

 

Hermione knew that while her trainers weren’t likely to push her physically, they would be more than likely to force her to memorise battle strategies and giving her tips on playing the politics game.  Hermione could admit to herself that if she was well aware that she was a teenager (though she wasn’t entirely sure what age she was, with all the time-turner shenanigans in her third year).  She would rather if this whole thing with Voldemort or Tom Riddle or whatever the hell they were calling the dusty old coot was handled with backroom politics.  Allow her physical strengths to remain on the back burner for now, a card for her to fall back on!  It was always for the best that she had secrets to fall back on.

 

She wondered if she should possibly be concerned that she found it so easy keeping secrets?

 

Nah, it just seemed that could cause Hermione more problems, in the long run, she still had things to worry about.

 

One of the things that Hermione felt like she should be most worried about was what exactly what had happened to Sirius Black during the fight in the Veil Room.  She wasn’t sure if she had managed to pull Sirius out of the way, but when she had heard from others that Sirius looked like he had fallen back into the Veil, she had grown concerned.  Not wanting to write herself off as being terrible at magic, she tried to hold herself and her own counsel private and to herself until she could hear whether or not it’s worked.

 

And then and only then telling people if it had worked and Sirius Black was still alive.

 

What, she didn’t like the taste of humble pie?

 

She also didn’t want to have built up Harry’s hopes for nothing.

 

So, for now, she would leave her friends to believe that she would spend the summer relaxing and recuperating from some of her injuries because she felt like that was what she was going to do.  Maybe not to the extent that some of her friends believed, but she didn’t want to be caught unawares.  Sigh, but it might be stressful summer for Hermione.

 

Shaking her head as she tried to summon her attention back to the train carriage, she didn’t think she wanted her friends to begin thinking that her attention had wavered.  She could see that her friends were still looking more than a little dejected, looking over at Harry she was honestly worried about the guy.  As far as he knew his god-father has just died, there was no reason to suspect that he might be carrying the proverbial weight of the world on his shoulders.  Hermione honestly wasn’t sure if he was even given an option of counselling, of talking to someone about the loss of his god-father.  She did wonder if there was even an option of counselling within the wizarding world.  The Wizarding World had always struck Hermione as rather old fashioned, for heaven’s sake the lamps still used oil and gas rather than a safer alternative like electricity.  It was honestly a wonder that there weren’t more nasty accidents within the Wizarding World.  She did wonder if the Wizarding World still laboured under the delusion that strong people did not emotional support and psychological help.  Furthermore, she wondered if Harry would even accept help and support.  Or would he cast any help aside and decide to shoulder the burden alone?

 

Hermione honestly wasn’t sure how exactly the Wizarding World treated trauma victims, and she honestly wasn’t even sure if she liked it.  She couldn’t even find references to it in many books; maybe it was glossed as something not to be thought about or taboo?  Or maybe there genuinely wasn’t much thought given to psychology; she hadn’t noticed anything on the large sign when she visited St Mungo's with the Weasleys and Harry.  For heaven’s sake, it seemed as if when something underwent massive amounts of trauma, they were shoved into a locked room and not given adequate amounts of treatment.  That would seem like a potential career path for her after she left Hogwarts.

 

But first things first she would have to get through this war first.  And it seemed like it was going to heat up considerably before it cooled down again.

 

Some days she wondered if it was ever likely to calm down once again.

 

She should probably work on learning stratagems and contingencies, not just for war and battle type situations but also to learn how to play the politics game.  She had quickly learned that within the Wizarding World she was very quickly disregarded as both a woman and a muggle born.  Hermione could waste her energy and begin to become frustrated with the system she was living under, or she could begin to work to change some of the worlds from within.

 

First things first though she would have to finish this stupid war.

 

Some days though she questioned whether or not there would be an end to this war, sure it had gone quiet for over ten years, note the operative word quiet.

 

In some of her more facetious moments, she wondered why people still fought wars over the stupidest things.  To her, it just didn’t matter what person looked like, or thought like or what language they spoke.  They were just people, after all, everybody was born, lived, paid taxes and then died.  Hermione didn’t understand it, she might not glorify war or even completely understand it, but she felt that it was important she could still defend herself.  No matter whether or not she had no stomach for the blood and gore, she never wanted to become the stereotypical trope-laden damsel in distress.

 

She hadn’t read the books in years, but she looked up to Èowyn, she didn’t ever want to be locked away in “a cage.  To stay behind bars until use and old age accept them, and all chance of doing greats deeds is gone beyond recall or desire…” privately Hermione wasn’t sure if she wanted great renown for any of her deeds.  She had that, and she didn’t want any more.  At least in the Wizarding World Hermione could be a slip by unnoticed, and live her life by her terms.  Ahh, sometimes she felt that she become all too comfortable under the cloak of complete anonymity.  It might difficult for her to step outside of the comfort of her seeming cloak of invisibility.

 

Hermione wouldn’t even bother to try and claim that she didn’t use the bathroom because she was big enough to admit that sometimes she ended up using the loo.  In fact, sometimes she even got constipated, she needed to eat some more fruit and vegetables.  Right now, though Hermione was able to get in and out of the bathroom in a very short period.  Stumbling from the toilet, apparently, even trains that ran on a kind of magical energy still bounced around on the tracks.  Hermione started to wash her hands grimacing when the first few spurts of water turned a disgusting rust colour.  Waiting for a few seconds until the water turned clear again, Hermione thrust her hands underneath the taps and allowed the water to clean her hands.  After a few moments, she turned the taps off and started to dry her hands off at the paper towel dispenser.  Before Hermione left the toilets, she took the opportunity to unsnap a bobble from her wrist and used it to hastily scrape back her hair.

 

Making her way back towards the cabin, Hermione spotted the dastardly trio of Slytherins coming towards her.  Ugh, she didn’t even think she had the energy to deal with them, at least not on her own.  Ducking into the compartment with her friends, she noted with some small amount of concern as her friends looked up at her with worry in their eyes.

 

“Whoa whoa, what wrong Hermione?” Luna dreamily asked.

 

“It’s the Slytherin’s out there Luna, I just don’t have the energy to deal with them right now, I just don’t have the energy y’know?” Hermione sigh.

 

“Still causing trouble out there?  We had guessed that Malfoy and his cronies would start to get more than slightly pissed after a group of their fathers were thrown into prison.  That’s gotta be a bit of a shock to their system.” Ginny commented peering at Hermione with a look in her eye of something that Hermione just couldn’t place.  She should probably ~~begin~~ ~~continue~~ to keep an eye on her.

 

At that point the small group were interrupted with the noise of a commotion just outside of their carriage.  Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle had taken the initiative to take out some of their impotent rage on Harry, now that there were no teachers around to deduct points from them or assign attention.

 

It was purely their bad luck that they had chosen to ambush Harry near a DA compartment, who of course could clearly see what was happening through the glass.  As one, Ernie Macmillan, Hannah Abbott, Susan Bones, Justin Finch-Fletchley, Anthony Goldstein and Terry Boot had finished with them, they closely resembled three gigantic slugs squished into Hogwarts uniforms.  Hermione watched as Harry, Ernie and Justin hoisted them into the luggage rack, thinking that this proved if nothing else just how bad an idea it could be to mix spells.

 

Following the group back into the compartment listening in some amusement as Ron started to work up to a full head of steam beginning to rant “Now that they don’t have their rich Daddies to fall back on, those slimeball creeps are starting to realise that this just got real and nobody is going to be there to bail the gits out” Ron sneered.  Hermione wondered not for the first time why she was still friends with that guy.

 

“I don’t understand, why they would try and attack you guys?” Harry naïvely asked.

 

Exchanging exasperated looks with Neville, she wondered how Harry could ever function in the real world.  How he would ever manage to last a longer period when he seemed to miss all of the subtle undertones of conversations.  Harry also had an unerring habit of hearing but not listening.

 

It looked like Ginny was beginning to get even more frustrated, or whatever that odd look in her eyes betrayed.  Hermione genuinely wasn’t sure because she wasn’t sure how many times she would have to say but she honestly didn’t give a damn about what Ginny Weasley thought.  She couldn’t understand why Ginny might start to get upset with her.  She wasn’t going to get involved in it, no matter how infuriating Ginny started to become.

 

She had bigger things to worry about than a lovestruck teenager.

 

There were better ways for her to waste her time.

 

Hermione made her way back into the train cabin and sat down daintily in one of the bench seats, she found herself wondering how exactly she had come to this point.  Reaching over to a discarded newspaper Hermione decided to amuse herself by reading some of the articles within the newspaper aloud.

 

“Well look at that Harry seems like you’re the Chosen One again.  I guess that even after we laid waste to huge parts of the Ministry of Magic, they deny that ole Flight from Death is back and it seems worse than ever, how does it feel to be our Saviour again?” Hermione trying once again to goad her friend into talking even a little.

 

“Oh, well I mean, I always knew that I was in the right,” Harry laughed before glumly continuing “I just wish it hadn’t taken so much to get people in me.”

 

Ron shot Hermione a dirty look, which was surprising on so many different levels what gave the normally tactless Ronald reprimanding anyone on tact.  “We know Harry but at least now people have been warned they will know what to be on their lookout.” Ginny spoke trying to look between her lashes at Harry.

 

Shifting her position in the seat, Hermione took the time to discreetly roll her eyes.  Who on earth did Ginny think she was kidding fluttering her eyelashes like a teenager in love?

 

“No, it’s fine Ginny, my grief comes out through my sarcasm, don’t be angry with her” Harry brushed away Ginny’s overly cloying sense of concern.  Hermione, though, wasn’t sure if Harry noticed the false concern, the boy could be incredibly dense at times!

 

Hermione glanced down at the newspaper in front of her again and continued to read from some of the articles, thinking and wondering to herself what kind of world she had gotten herself involved in.

 

Glancing up when she heard Harry and Ron discussing Cho, and only replying with a _“I – er – heard that she’s going out with someone else now,”_ Hermione once again found herself at a complete loss, she watched as the obvious emotions began to play out across Harry’s face.  She began to wonder if Harry felt his desire to impress Cho, had died within him when Sirius had died (well, at least he believed that Sirius was dead).

 

Becoming lost in her thoughts once again, as she began to considered that she had been distinctly unfair to Luna.  Hermione knew that she should have really been more open-minded enough to at least lend some credence to some of Luna’s fathers outlandish claims.  She knew that it was crazy for her to have written off some of Luna’s claims as simple conspiracy, she had after all entered into a new World just five years before and had seen things that she had long considered to simply be mythic creatures like unicorns and things that remind her rather uncomfortably of the mythical creature of Pegasus.  Why had she brushed off Luna’s claims of things like Heliotrope and Nargles, maybe there was something there?  Luna really deserved to be listened to at the very least.

 

It seems like Luna did not completely deserve a tin foil hat!

 

Some of the things that Hermione had learned of in the Department of Mysteries, showing that at the very least there was a kernel of truth to whatever crazy theories to what Luna had been spouting off about all year.  

 

No, the summer would no doubt be incredibly busy, Hermione only hoped that it wouldn’t be too tiring.  Who was she kidding though she would no doubt be completely exhausted by the end of it.  She could only hope though that her teachers taught he something productive to do with her time, maybe a decent use of her time.  She thought that she would probably learn how to do things like manipulate the people around her, at least in a political sense.  She had no doubt that she would now at least learn how to deal with the small things in life that as always brought her so much agony.  Well, maybe agony was too strong of a descriptor, it was more like niggling irritation.

 

She should also probably make an appointment to go and see the dentist.

 

Would it be rather snobbish of her to say that she found the whole approach to oral hygiene to be rather deplorable?

 

* * *

 

After Hermione had gotten home from the train station, she had very quickly developed heart burn, so taking a small amount of Gaviscon, she settled down to read.  Hermione briefly wondered to herself whether or not, she had constant and irritating flare ups of heartburn to look forward to now for the rest of her life.  It might seems strange her looking forward to nothing more than losing herself in a good novel, but after reading all of the dusty tomes and references books she had grown to appreciate the idea of simply reading for fun.  But for someone who had once felt like they could find all of their fun and escape as a child in the pages of a book, it meant a lot to her to be able to read once again.

 

Ahh, but the written word had never seemed so inviting to her before!  Before Hermione could completely lose herself in the written world, she was greeted by her grandmother’s trusted head lady in waiting.

 

“Hermione, I thought that was you!  How are you doing?”

 

“Hello Diane, a bit discombobulated but then I just got home, did you guys hear what I got into this year?” Hermione stood up and ran over to swamp the woman in a big hug, sniffing in the scent of her familiar violet scented perfume.

 

“Yes, dear we heard about that, I’ve never seen your grandparents so angry, especially when they couldn’t go to sit at your bedside.  Even my Bob was worried!  Are you feeling better now?  Shouldn’t you laying down?” Diane’s hands fluttered round Hermione’s face as she peered at the girl trying to see if the girl had lost a crazy amount of weight.

 

“No, I’m fine, I just need to take it a bit easier for about another week, but I’m doing much better.  Was Grandmother really stressed out?” Hermione laughed, cursing the fact that she had caused her grandparents worry.

 

“Yes, it was someone from the school, I can’t remember their name informed me that something had happened to you.  They told me because I’m down on your form as your grandmother, it wasn’t until Mr Moody and Mr Lupin thought to come and tell us that we actually found anything out, I thought your grandfather was going to blow a gasket.  You know he thinks a lot of you and he couldn’t even visit you or even threaten anyone to make sure the treatment you received was the best.”

 

“I’m going to make some apologies then huh?” Hermione tried to stifle a yawn as she continued to speak with Diane about what had happened to her that year.

 

“Alright, pet off to bed, I’ll wake you up for dinner tonight alright?  Oh I’m so glad you’re back, this place got really quiet when we heard what had happened to you.” Diane sent Hermione off with a hug and smile when she saw the girl yawning.

 

Hermione nodded and gave the woman a quick squeeze before making her way to her bedroom.  Hopefully with a few hours nap she would feel a bit more human and awake later that evening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you guys think of this, same as always and you can find me on Tumblr LittleRoma if you want to see what I'm up to or even just to shoot the breeze!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been thinking of making the individual chapter lengths on this story shorter, I've just got so much else going on at the moment, let me know what you think. Happy 4th July, Canada Day (Saturday wasn't it), Harry Potter anniversary was recently, anything else I'm missing. Let me know where you're reading this from.  
> Hope you enjoy the chapter,  
> Romax

Hermione sighed, it would seem her doze hadn’t done her too much good.  She still felt like a flush sponge, filled up with emotions and complicated theorems.  Was it too much to ask that she got a good ~~few hours nap~~ nights sleep?  It would seem as if her problems were there to stick around and annoy her.  Almost tripping over her feet (had they always been **that** big?) as she made her way into her ensuite bathroom.  Hermione shook her head once again as she tried to clear some of the cobwebs from her mind, it seemed like that was going to become a habit.

 

Hermione wasn’t so self-involved to realise that she probably looked like one of those dog figurines in the back of a car.  The Churchill Insurance Dog, oh yes!  One of the nodding ones at any rate.

 

Either that or she probably looked like she had completely lost her marbles; constantly shaking her head!

 

Catching sight of herself in the mirror above her sink, smushed pillow lines on her face and all, Hermione reflected that pillow marks looked good on precisely no one.  Heh heh, Hermione made herself laugh, reflection.  Bending over the sink to wash her face, Hermione simply used water and a clean face cloth, not thinking she could be bothered to pull out all of her fancy face products.  It was time for dinner anyway; she would spend longer in the shower the following morning pampering her skin.

 

Gently drying her skin off in a large white towel, Hermione sighed once again and prepared to leave her bathroom.  Taking in a large breath of air, Hermione exited the bathroom, and crossed over to her large wardrobe.  Reaching in she pulled out a fleecy jumper, once again cursing the strange British weather.  It seemed like only here could she have such a mixed-up weather pattern.  Still, at least it wasn’t snowing!  Bundling the jumper into her arms, she left her bedroom. 

 

Making her way through the quiet corridors of the palace she grew up in; she wondered once again where everybody was.  Making her way down to the kitchen, she knew that her grandfather and grandmother liked to have a quiet dinner just the three of them in the kitchen when she got home.  It was always just the three of them, trying to recapture some of the intimacy of their relationship before Hermione was once again plunged into meetings and training schedules.

 

It might sound odd, but Hermione liked it just being the three of them, chatting and catching up after a few months of separation.  She sometimes found that she missed being with her family for all the months that she was away at Hogwarts.  So, it would seem like it was only natural that she cherished the time when the three of them could catch up.  Even if it sometimes felt as if she was the one dominating all of the conversation.

 

Pushing at the door into the kitchen, Hermione felt a smile spontaneously growing on her face, when she caught sight of her grandparents.  Before Hermione took a seat, she made her way over to her grandparents, ducking down to give them a big hug.  Hermione felt as if she could feel all the stress from the previous few months and weeks beginning to slide off her body.  Hermione did wonder if that was a bad thing, but she was able to reflect that it was perfectly normal for her to feel relaxed around her grandparents.  Someone who maybe didn’t know Hermione, who didn’t completely understand her situation might think that her Grandparents pressured her to take part in the dog and the pony show within the public sphere.  But her Grandmother might be able to realise that if Hermione was magical, she might be able to influence how the war within the Magical Community progressed.  She realised that even if those people were completely her subjects, they were magical so more often than not the Mundane Queen had no say over how they lived their life, but she didn’t want anyone to be harmed.  The Queen had come to the realisation that after she had served in the Military that she didn’t like it when people died, not that she had been confused about this before, so she would do all she could to try and limit the scope of some of the damage.

 

She might have had to sell it to the then Prime Minister, Maggie Thatcher that it could be her voters that got hurt even from some of the fallout.  The Queen had smiled that secret smile to herself, politicians could be so predictable at times, even if they weren’t out for the best of the entire country, they were out to serve themselves and no one else.

 

One just had to know how to deal with, something she (the Queen) was exceptionally pleased with having had to work for so long in the political eye, she knew how to play the political game.

 

At least one would hope that she knew how to play the political game!

 

But the Queen had always been mindful of the fact that she had to keep at least one eye on the goings-on of the Wizarding World.  She knew that the Second World was terrible, but she also knew that the effects of the International Wizarding World fighting with one another, had only exacerbated the tensions felt in the Mundane World.  It was a secret within the Royal Family that the Wizarding World should have an eye kept on it, just in case they managed to blindside the Mundane World.

 

Elizabeth saw it as her solemn duty to ensure that the tensions could not bleed over, plus was it really so bad of her to think that someday she should like to be able completely in peace.  She was completely aware of the knowledge that she couldn’t make any major decisions, but maybe she could make things easier for certain elements of her subjects?  Her decision was perhaps solidified when she saw that her precious Granddaughter had inherited the use of magic and the last thing she ever wanted was for her Grandaughter to feel unsafe or taken advantage of.

 

It would seem that it was once again time for the Winsdors’ to involve themselves in the Magical world.

 

None of that mattered anymore, not to Hermione anyway, not when she was able to make her way into the kitchen and grab her grandparents in a huge hug, beyond relief that they were together again.  Hermione drew in a great gust of air, as she smelt the stereotypical smells of the outdoors, pine forests and a general sense of cleanness and freshness lingering around her beloved Pop-Pops.  Giving the man a quick squeeze, Hermione sighed, closing her eyes against some of the tears that began to well up in her eyes at the feeling of safety and comfort within her Pop-Pops arms.

 

It was a similar thing in her Granny’s arms, Hermione could feel the sense of purpose melting and the pressures of society falling away from Hermione as she once again revelled in the sense that she was once again with her Granny.  To Hermione her Granny smelt like a curious mix of violets and talcum powder.  In other words, she felt like safety.  Hermione didn’t think that she had ever felt quite so relieved to be in the presence of her Grandparents again, because even if Hermione had simply been studying for exams, she had felt so unbelievably stressed out.

 

Sometimes a girl just wanted her Grandparents and was that really so bad?

 

Hermione didn’t think so.

 

“Hi, Pop-Pops, how’re you doing?  How was your year?” Hermione hoped that the trio were at least able to chat for a period of time before they started talking about business.  She wanted to be able to catch up with her Grandparents before they had to start talking about real things.

 

“Oh, you know busy enough, but I’m more than a little worried about you, but are you ready to eat?” Hermione’s Pop-Pop told Hermione as he reached over to dish himself out some of the delicious steaming hot shepherds’ pie.  Looking up at Hermione as she started to dish herself out some food.

 

“Yeah, I definitely missed you guys, especially when I was pretty much lost in all of my study books for the exams at the end of the year.” Hermione laughed as she dished herself out some of the shepherd’s pie before gesturing to the salad bowl before she went in with a serving spoon.

 

“Those were the Ordinary Witching Levels, weren’t they?” her Pop-Pop nodded over at Hermione who handed over the spoon to Hermione.

 

“Uh no, Ordinary Wizarding Levels Pop-Pops, but I’m so glad they’re over because I felt like I was spending all of my days in a library, doing nothing about studying.  Don’t get me wrong, I love books, you know this, but it was just enough!  I felt like at one point I was seeing too much of books.  Let me read for fun again, you know?” Hermione explained, a grumpy look crossing her face.

 

“Say it isn’t so!  You thinking you were spending too much time in a library?  The world must be ending!  Are there any books you fancy reading this summer?” Pop-Pops laughed, looking over at his granddaughter.

 

“Not really, I mean I fancy maybe reading some John Grisham, or at least something a bit easier to read, just so I can at least switch my brain off for a while and not think about everything I’m reading.” Hermione mused, trying to work out what she was planning on doing this summer, at least from a reading perspective.

 

“Fair enough, now what happened a few weeks ago?” her Pop-Pops asked his voice beginning to take on a worried tone, his left brow climbing up his forehead, as he looked over at Hermione in some concern.

 

“Yeah, Harry had a nasty vision during the History of Magic OWL, where he saw his Godfather being tortured.  To cut a long story short, he dragged us to London to fight in a war scenario against Death Eaters.  I got injured pretty badly at the end of that fight, how did you guys hear about it?  Diane honestly wasn’t sure how you guys heard.” Hermione quietened down not wanting to upset her Pop-Pops.

 

“It was Professor Snape, are you sure we can trust that man, never have I met a dourer man, does he even know of your complete status within this world?” Granny spoke, her voice sounding clear, like she still trying to puzzle over some information in her head.

 

“Yes Granny” Hermione groaned before continuing “I’m not sure if the man know completely about my role in everything, but he seems to have really gotten short shrift by both sides during the last war.  He made mistakes, yes, I’m not by any means lessening them, but one of his mistakes, was whispering in his Dark Lord’s ear about some dangerous information.  The only reason Albus Dumbledore was able to take him on as a Spy because he still believed that Severus still held feelings for one Mrs Potter and greatly regretted sharing this information when he realised what he had done.  He might do some things that are completely questionable but I think we should begin trusting him a little.  What did he say?”

 

“He came here to inform us that you had been hurt while fighting, but he wasn’t able to tell us a lot about what kind of situation you found yourself in.  He wasn’t able to I guess.  But he did leave remarkably quickly and abruptly.”  Pop-Pops gravely and evenly spoke, aware that once again he was under a microscope.

 

“That figures, he was probably called sharpish so his Dark Lord could attempt to work out on what side of the spectrum he fell.  To test his loyalties.” Hermione muttered, her head already awash with all of the information she attempting to work through.

 

“Which one though?” Pop-Pops muttered turning his nose up once again at the perceived arrogance of the Wizarding World.

 

“That would be the question wouldn’t it?  Who informed you guys on this side though?  Surely someone would have officially informed you what had happened to me.” Hermione tried to cut through to the crux of the matter, knowing that somehow whatever she was about to find out was crucially important.

 

“We got a letter, well I say we, but I really mean Diane, after all the school is still labouring under the misconception that you still live with her, which isn’t a problem, it’s not as if you don’t get on with the woman, you have always loved the woman like an aunt.  The letter came from one Minerva McGonagall, why didn’t she actually come out to inform Diane what had happened?” Granny imperiously spoke, once again trying to sort out the sequence of events in her head.

 

“McGonagall, are you sure?  She was badly injured during my Astronomy final it really shouldn’t have been her.” Hermione continued to mutter, completely missing out on what her Pop-Pops said next.

 

“I think that the Wizarding World is still labouring under the delusion that in the Mundane World at least we don’t care for our kids once they’ve begun to display Magic.  At least the Ministry or Government seems to believe that.  Look at how easy they find it to skip giving pupils a proper grounding in subjects like reading and writing, maths and some of the sciences.  This has to change Liz, it’s not good enough anymore to tell ourselves that simply because that’s the way it’s always been, that it should continue like that.”

 

“I know Phil, I know, that’s why we’re doing this, I need to know what’s going on in that world before I commit to taking more action.  I can’t just rush in blindly, no matter how much it hurts my soul to even think of my granddaughter in pain, for heaven’s sake that was why we began those actions back in the mid eighties.”

 

The dinner continued on in a similar vein for some time, with the trio still just talking to one another, finding the time to once again find some sense of comfort and stability in being around one another again.

 

* * *

 

That night as Hermione was getting herself ready for bed once again, she found herself thinking back on the actions of the mid-eighties that had landed in the murky and sometimes uncharted waters she found herself trying to tread in.  Her Grandmother had known, along with some of her ministers that the Wizarding World had seemed to get itself into too big of a hole for them to dig out of on their own.  It might kill her, but she would have to learn how to separate herself from her Grandmother, at least when it came to time spent in the public eye.

 

It wouldn’t do to have Hermione recognised at a crucial juncture, rumbled before she could make all of the important intel discoveries.

 

So Hermione had grown up hidden away like the unfortunate cousin who eats fish head’s hidden within the attic, because out of sight, out of mind after all.  She had become uniquely placed to win over loyalties and influences.

 

It had after all been a bit of a good thing when Hermione had managed to befriend a young Harry Potter.

 

For now, however, it would seem like the current Wizarding Battles were heating up and Hermione fully intended to be there to take advantage of whatever way the cards were facing when everything once again settled down.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione learns more and catches up with old friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, I didn't get those exams, so that's why I ghosted on you all to study. Since I posted, I was down in the Republic of Ireland on holiday, at my cousins wedding. And I read the entire Hillary Clinton book after I came out of my exam last week. Does that say something about me - that I come out of a university English Literature exam and go to read a political sort of memoir as a bit of light reading? Anyway, the book is amazing and I'd recommend it.
> 
> Hope you enjoy the chapter don't forget to tell me if you do.

“And take a deep breath, in and out,” Rachel, Hermione’s physical therapist and yoga instructor gently reminded Hermione.

 

Hermione was struggling to breathe through some of her pain; she was currently trying to straighten out her spine.  She had always known that there were problems with her spine and posture.  Her Grandmother had always joked that if Hermione were left to it, then she would start to walk like an old lady.  Her Grandfather liked to wind her up that Hermione was beginning to walk like her Grandmother.  Just minus the poise that Hermione’s grandmother liked to display, or more than likely had drilled into her from a young age.

 

“Okay, Hermione just try to stretch out into the Warrior Pose, and take a deep breath in, imagine it filling up your body like a balloon floating into your body?”

 

Hermione felt, almost without even looking into the mirror, that her face was beginning to turn red.  Rachel guided Hermione out of the pose, allowing the young woman in front of her to begin to feel as if she could breathe easily again.  Hermione absently began to rub out some of the aches in her thighs; the muscles hadn’t started screaming at her, she knew that was probably a good thing.  When Hermione had started her yoga and physical therapy a few weeks ago, it could be a complete and utter nightmare for her to move.

 

Don’t get Hermione wrong, she still felt a bit of leftover pain, marginal pain, but her muscles at least weren’t screaming in pain, which was always a good thing as far as Hermione was concerned.  One thing she would probably always regret was the fact that it hadn’t taken her so long for her to do anything about her general pain level, she knew that she really should have done something years ago.  Maybe she wouldn’t have been in so much pain.

 

Straightening up Hermione smiled at Rachel wincing as she felt some of her bones beginning to pop back into place.

 

“Okay, does that feel any better Hermione?” Rachel asked worried once again about her client.

 

“A little bit better, thanks so much Rachel, it is still a little difficult for me to move in some ways but I imagine that pain will eventually go, it is easing a little.  Are there any other breathing or stretching exercises that I can carry out on my own?”

 

“No, I would worry about your safety if there wasn’t a licensed physical therapist with you.  I just wish you would tell me exactly how you got these injuries; I can’t completely help you if I don’t know the cause.”

 

“No, no I know, but until the complete background check goes through, we, unfortunately, can’t tell you much more about my injury and how I got it, you know that I got it through school.” Hermione winced trying to explain to the woman in front of her, just how she had gotten injured.

 

As far as Hermione was aware, Rachel knew that Hermione was going to a sort of unique boarding school.  Thanks to her connections with her brother Lawrence, she knew about magic, her brother being Muggle Born, but she wasn’t sure to what extent Hermione played in magic.  Though Hermione and her Grandparents still weren’t sure if they could trust the woman across from her, Hermione wanted too and felt like she could.  Understandably her Grandmother was a bit more cautious, Hermione figured that the woman had been around the block so to speak a few times, so she should probably listen to the woman a bit more.

 

“Well, I have nothing to hide, so I guess I’ll just have to wait.  For now, though, ensure that you keep up with the breathing difficulties, you haven’t been having any more difficulty breathing today, beyond what you’ve told me?” Rachel peered at Hermione, sighing a little when she noted the younger woman was not looking particularly winded. 

 

“No, it’s feeling a bit better, it was a little scary at the beginning when I couldn’t take a deep breath without feeling like my lungs were causing me a bit of pain.  It’s not as bad now, certainly thanks to some if not all of the exercises have helped me.  Is there anything else that I can do to help this along?” Hermione began to feel concerned when she wasn’t getting any faster results.  Could you blame her for wanting to get more immediate results?

 

“No, I know that this is probably the harder part, but for right now all you can do is continue with the exercises, but the fact that you have progressed this far on is something remarkable.  I know that it might seem like a long and drawn out procedure, but if you’re starting to feel better just keep doing what you’re doing, okay?” Rachel checked once again gently remind the young woman in front of her what to do.

 

Hermione nodded at the woman, before bending down to reach for her towel, scrubbing it over her face as she tried to scrub away some of the sweat from her face.  Hermione bent down to roll up the yoga mat, once she had it evenly rolled out, she stuffed it under an arm, hooking her gymbag over her shoulder.  Glancing round her to check that she had everything she need, Hermione nodded once to herself before leaving the room.

 

Whistling as she made her way back to her room, Hermione ducked through the doorway and made her way over to her ensuite bathroom.  Once Hermione had gotten through the door, she dumped the yoga mat and began to strip out of her sweaty clothes.  This, was probably her favourite part of the routine, being able to wash all the sweat down the drain. 

 

Singing to herself before she got into the shower, today’s song was Dancing in the Dark by Bruce Springsteen.  Hermione recognised that she should probably begin to feel a little embarrassed at her poor singing voice, but she considered whether or not it should be a law to sing in the shower.  That had been hell in Hogwarts, having to share a bathroom and thus feeling unable to sing.  She usually comprised and hummed to herself, still not feeling confident enough to start singing vocally aloud when there was even a hint that she might have an audience.  Sue her, but she didn’t want to give Brown and to a lesser extent Patil, even more, ammunition when it came to bullying her.

 

Once Hermione had stripped down to her skivvies, she reached in and started the shower up, taking a deep breath of air, she peeled her underwear off and hopped into the shower.  Deciding, that while she might not feel like she had the energy or even the desire to clean her hair, she didn’t like the feeling that her hair might abruptly crawl away from her (yes, she was aware she could be a drama queen at times).

 

Taking a bar of Dove soap, Hermione began to wash her hands, she knew that the bars of soap probably wasn't the most hygienic thing in the world, but she needed something to get her hands washed.  Before she ran her hands through her hair, she dipped her hands beneath the water spray.  Taking a deep breath, she stood underneath the spray to once again wet her hair; she stepped back momentarily to run the vanilla scented shampoo through her hair.  Pretending she was a rock singer performing a sold-out gig, as she rubbed the sudsy mixture into her hair, oh yeah she could pretend she was Bruce Springsteen or Stevie Van Zandt in front of a sellout crowd at Asbury Park.  She did so love to make sure her that he air was completely clean.  When Hermione started in with the conditioner, she liked to pretend that she was a saxophonist like Clarence Clemmons to try and get her through this next bit.  Pausing for a quick second while she lifted a hairbrush to ensure that the coconut scented conditioner was thoroughly brushed through her long hair.

 

Allowing the conditioner to sit in her hair for a few moments, Hermione soaked a loofah under the water and squirted some of her orange scented shower gel over it.  Sighing, as she began to wash the soapy loofah over her body, Hermione felt like the dirt that she had felt was covering her skin beginning to be washed away.  Stepping beneath the shower head, she ran her hands through her hair aiding the water in washing her hair out. 

 

Once, Hermione was satisfied that her hair was washed out and her skin was once again clean; she stepped out of the shower.  Throwing her hair into one of those hair turbans to dry off, Hermione wrapped a fluffy blue towel around her body.  Whistling a jaunty little tune to herself as she lifted her gym clothes from earlier and gingerly sniffed at them.  Wincing, she dumped the clothes into the hamper sitting inside the bathroom; she would probably need to wash them before she tried to wear them again.

 

Making her way from the bathroom, Hermione walked over to her large closet and opened it up, pulling out a pair of blue jeans and a plain white tee shirt.  Before she started to get dressed Hermione took down her hair and proceeded to towel dry her hair.  She was well aware that her hair probably wouldn’t thank her later but sue her she just wanted to get on with her day!  Once Hermione was satisfied that her hair was dry, she grabbed the clothes she had pulled out of the closet earlier and ducked back into the bathroom to change.  Pulling her knickers and jeans on in one smooth move, she dropped the towel from around her body.  Before Hermione pulled on a bra, she peered at her breasts, wanting to check for any lumps, thankfully though she didn’t feel any.  While she got dressed, scowling as she did so at how difficult it was to pull clothes over recently cleaned and dried skin.  Pulling her tee shirt over her head, Hermione pulled a hair bobble from her wrist, before putting her hair into a pony tail, not exactly feeling like she just couldn’t be bothered doing anything to her hair.

 

Taking a basket from her closet, Hermione dumped the clothes in and humming to herself she took the basket down to the large laundry room.  Smiling as she made her way into the large room, with the large industrial washers and clouds of steam randomly rising from the machines,

 

“Hey, I’ve got these clothes for you guys, I just thought I should bring them down.”  Hermione smiled at the woman standing across from her, more than a little unsure what she should be doing with the clothes sitting across from her.

 

“Why on Earth have you taken these clothes down here?” the woman across from smacked some gum in her mouth.

 

It was at this point that the women were interrupted by Hermione’s friend Hailey coming around into the corner into the large laundry room.  Hermione briefly closed her eyes against some of the loud screaming noise.

 

“OH LORD HERMIONE, HOW ARE YOU DOING?” Hailey screeched at Hermione.

 

“Whoa whoa I’m doing okay, how’re you doing Hails?  Still having trouble with Colin?” Hermione asked her friend.

 

Hailey had recently been having a bit of trouble with her boyfriend, Hailey had felt as if the man was growing apart from her.  Or as if the man was attempting to ghost on her.  Hailey wasn’t sure if she had done anything to warrant being treated this way and privately from what she had told Hermione wasn’t sure either.  As she rationalised was it always the woman who had something wrong?   Weren’t some men just born to be utter dicks and forgot that they shouldn’t treat women like the dirt on their shoes?

 

“Have you tried speaking to him Hails?  He could be going through something you know.  Wait for a second you haven’t tried avoiding him, have you?” Hermione looked over at her friends, well aware that Hailey had a habit of avoiding her problems.

 

“No, I guess I’ll have to talk to him before long, he’s not the same man I started dating, do you think he’s cheating on me?” Hailey asked looking like once again she needed someone else’s advice.

 

“Oh, honey I honestly couldn’t say, you need to speak to him, I can’t answer these questions for you.” Hermione soothed still not sure as to how she could make the other woman feel better about herself.

 

“Ugh, I know. Still, I better get back to work here, have a good day!” Hailey waved at Hermione as she took the small laundry basket.

 

Hermione waved over her shoulder, as she left the room hurrying off to one of the room, ready to go to her next class.  Today she was learning even more on how to manipulate some of the political classes within the Wizarding World.  It was interesting and while she may wish that it didn’t have to come down to such a manipulative and underhanded tactics.  Hermione’s trainers were pointing out there was no point in too much innocent blood being spilt, so if they could do it without getting into a nasty situation, all the more reason to do it.

 

Walking through the corridors into the large basement of the building, wondering to herself as she did so whether or not it would seem that the corridors had been built during the Second World War.  Hermione knew that her grandmother had served in the British Army during the Second World War.  She did sometimes wonder if the basement had been designated a private air raid shelter for the employees still stuck in the City.  For now, though the more private and secured rooms (against things like offensive magics and regular eavesdropping bugs) so she could meet in private.  Passing through locked door after locked door, she paused to allow one of one of the members of the armed guards to sign her into the room.

 

Pausing to allow her entry into a shadowed room, Hermione took advantage of the preternatural quietness of the room.  Stepping over to the large set of lockers, Hermione opened the locker in the middle and took out the ruled notebook wanting to make a manner of notes to herself.  Holding the notebook under her arm, she stepped away from the locker, flipping the door shut behind her, not wanting to allow anyone to get into the locker.

 

Going through another locked door Hermione took a seat at one of the solitary desks, opening the notebook she flipped through to the last page she had filled in.  Taking one of the pens from the from the large cup of pens she leant back in her seat and began to absent mindedly open and close the pen.  She was waiting for Kingsley Shacklebolt to come through into the room, the two had had an odd meeting last year, after all, the two couldn’t let on that still knew each, thankfully the two hadn’t had much of an opportunity to meet, so she didn’t have to pretend.

 

Too much that was.

 

The door abruptly swung open, Hermione swung around to face the door and watched as Shacklebolt made his way into the small room.  Raising an eyebrow when she saw that the man still insisted on wearing his earring.  Still, maybe the guy had glamoured it up, and the magic spread over the basements negated any camouflaging magic.

 

“Okay, well then Hermione, nice to see you again last, shall we get started?” Shacklebolt calmly instructed Hermione.

 

“Alright, last we were speaking, we were about to discuss the Malfoy family.  So, since the last Wizarding War, the Malfoys bought off the whole being held accountable by paying off some influential names and families within the Wizarding World.  One of the pockets greased included Cornelius Fudge, who was able to make sure that he was able to get off from the crime of having a Dark Mark, of hurting people.  On the face of it, he was able to give money to some of the fundraising campaigns for the new wing at St. Mungo’s, named of course after them.  The other things came around like some of their past donations, like that after Lucius’ father’s death Abraxas the Malfoys’ gave a big donation to the hospital, I’m assuming that the guy could be a total bear for the nurses to treat.”

 

“It seems like money makes the world go round right?  Question how was he able to keep on with his position with the School Board of Governors?” Hermione continued “Wouldn’t Dumbledore have been able to block some of the control that Lucius Malfoy holds over the School Board?”

 

“No, but you see Malfoy can exert his influence over people whether or not that’s because he has blackmail material and possible intimidation.  With some families, he doesn’t hold that kind of power over them.  The family don’t seem to hold that power over the Longbottom family, but they do hold a lot of blackmail material over the rest of the people in that world.”

 

Hermione was able to take a copious amount of notes, not wanting to miss a thing that Shacklebolt was talking her through.  It might not make a lot of sense, but Hermione knew that some of what she was attempting to take notes on could become very important to her later on in the whole process.  At that point, the door behind her opened again, Hermione swung around to look at the couple stepping through the door.  Seeing that the couple stepping through the door were Frank and Alice Longbottom, she was wondering how the two of them were able to get out of the house.  As far as Hermione was aware, the couple had been targeted by pet Deatheaters’ the day after Halloween before some of the elements of the Queen’s Magical investigation had interrupted them.  The young couple had been left with a horrible set of health problems, ones which Magic had not yet been able to solve.  The two were now only able to walk with the aid of a crutch each and still had to perform a physical therapy component.

 

“Hey Shack, how’s it going?” Frank greeted the man with a smile and a laugh.

 

“Alright, I’m going through some of the things with the Malfoys, are you guys here to cover some of the seedier aspects of politics?” Shacklebolt managed to speak as he was sometimes wont to do with a Somerset accent.  Hermione didn’t know where the accent came along, but she did find it mildly amusing when the accent came out to play.

 

“Yeah, we’ve got a lot to go through before we can send Hermione back to school because it all just seems like it about to start heating up.  You saw some of the Prophet’s reaction to the whole fiasco at the Ministry of Magic at June time there.  You want to hang around until today's lessons are finished or do you need to rush on Shack?” Alice asked smiling over at the man she had once seen as a sort of professional protégé.

 

“No, I have to go on Dumbledore is completely riding my arse about more patrols.  Between him and the asshats at the Ministry, it seems as if we’re all being held on by the short and curlies.  Cornelius Fudge has finally authorised the additional funding that Bones was asking all those months ago, so until something else happens we’ll be left attempting to hold all of the pieces.  Still, maybe Fudge will be kicked out of office eh?” Shacklebolt replied before glancing down at his wristwatch “ooh sorry, don’t want to be too late for my shift, see you guys later.”

 

“Alright, well I’ll see you later.” Kingsley waved over his shoulder as he made his way from the way.

 

Hermione swivelled round in her seat, ready to take even more notes for whatever the Longbottoms had to tell her.  She was ready to take even more notes and only hoped that the Longbottoms had something interesting to tell her.

 

“Okay, so in our last session we discussed how the Wizarding World politics works, but today we’re going to look into how we got into that situation in the first place.  Every culture, every group of people has at one stage faced some discrimination, show me any group that hasn’t faced persecution.  Now within the Wizarding World, Muggle Borns such as yourself have faced hatred and persecution.  During the Second World War, it seems as if Grindelwald was able to take advantage of the fear and the deaths to murder those they didn’t like.  After all the Mundane World would take any notice of unexplained deaths, especially if the rest of the world were tearing itself apart.” Frank had started before Alice continued for her husband.

 

“Dumbledore was able to get away for so long before he went to confront Grindelwald, nobody knows why.  The more important thing is that once it finally stopped, the War in the Mundane World was able to end.  I don’t understand a lot of the Second World War, at least from the Mundane side, so we aren’t going to spend a lot of time discussing this.  Even before all of that though Albus Dumbledore was beginning to build up his political capital with some of his great academic works, once he was able to defeat Grindelwald his political star began to shine.” Alice spoke before taking a deep breath to continue;

 

“Dumbledore at this point moved onto being a Transfiguration Professor, but he had been promoted since to Headmaster before we came along.  Building up to the Second Wizarding War, Dumbledore was able to build up more of his capital, amassing up a series of favours, extending a series of favours and spreading his influence about.” Alice explained, beginning to look a little irritated.

 

“Don’t get Alice wrong, we aren’t trying to say that Dumbledore is a good man, but the way he has amassed the capital.  He was able to mass said capital because people would never believe that the man who had previously defeated the menace who had previously terrified the Wizarding World, or at least Grindlewald was at one stage the scourge of Wizarding Europe.  If the game board was completely free, he could have been able to completely influence life here in Britain and to a (much lesser extent Europe) if there weren’t people here undermining him at every turn.”

 

“Strange that the European Wizards are more capable of independent thought!” Alice snorted.

 

“Probably because they weren’t drinking the Kool-Aid, but anyway, Dumbledore was being held back at least in Britain, politically speaking.  We have tried to speak to Grindelwald after we were able to read through some of the man’s childhood letters.  It seems as if he knew Dumbledore when he was growing up and some of the views that a young Dumbledore confessed to holding in the correspondence between the two young men were a little on the questionable side.  Especially if you consider the views that Dumbledore later claimed to hold.” Frank tried to explain before Alice took over again.

 

“Now, you could always say that Dumbledore grew out of these dangerous thoughts, some of his more recent actions, certainly seem to suggest that he no holds these views.  And that’s fine, I know that I once held views that I no longer hold, but you can see that for all of his talk and claims of being a saviour he didn’t do much past the bare minimum to aid Muggleborns.  Again, though no has called him out for this dangerous and reckless behaviour.  Take the last Wizarding War, for example; its effects could have been mitigated if the man had imposed a better system of fairness and equality from a Hogwarts age then maybe some of the worse damages could have been avoided or at least lessened.  If the young Slytherin and other students who uttered some of the more disgustingly racist things or carried out bullying behaviour.  Maybe then you wouldn’t have had students rushing off to join Voldemort in their humiliation and quest for revenge.”

 

“That sounds like you’re talking about Professor Snape, are we allowed to talk about him?” Hermione asked wanting to make sure that she completely understand.

 

“Well, what he doesn’t know isn’t going to hurt him, because why would he even need to be kept aware of everything.” Frank winked at Hermione.

 

“But doesn’t it invade his privacy for us to be talking about it?  Shouldn’t Professor Snape be reasonably entitled to his privacy?” Hermione asked once again wondering why it seemed as if the man, one of her other tutors was having his privacy violated.

 

At that point, the trio was interrupted in the room with Professor Snape making his way into the room, his large black robes billowing out behind him.  Hermione wondered if the man had heard what the trio had been discussing before he walked in.  Her hopes that maybe he hadn’t heard the discussions were suddenly dashed when he spoke his next words.

 

“I heard that, and for this matter, namely Dumbledore and some of his antics during the war, some of my personal stories are unfortunately meant to be shared.” Snape continued by muttering “Much as I hate that my privacy had been invaded.”

 

“Ah, Severus, sorry about that, we were just discussing some of what Dumbledore and some of his riskier behaviour during the war and some of his uniquely questioning and suspect behaviour.  We wanted to tell Hermione that some of what he has been up to ever since the War.  We know we are making a big hash of the explanation, but we needed to make sure that Hermione completely understood some of the reasons why she should be wary around Dumbledore.  Just in case she didn’t completely grasp how shady the guy is.  Is there anything that you would like to add?  You are the one that has been attempting to study up on him some more?” Alice welcomed the dour man.

 

“Most if not all of what Dumbledore’s history has been shrouded in secrecy, which is surprising given that he had so many fans.  Now from working with the man, I can assume that Dumbledore has been quashing any mention of autobiographies, any that have gone on to be published have been swiftly pulled from publication.  We can’t say either way that the man had been using physical intimidation, but the publication houses and any warehouses have gone up in flames.  There haven’t been any accident reports, no files were charged, but it’s surprising.  Anytime an investigation into Dumbledore has been launched; it has been brushed away under the carpet, because the man who had once done so much good, could do something like cause massive amounts of property damages.  At the minute I’ve been suckered into teaching, a job which I dislike, all because of a mistake I made back when I was younger.  You should be very cautious around the man.” Professor Snape instructed, his eyes boring into Hermione as he tried to stress the information to the girl.

 

“Okay, so what Snape said is true, the Auror department has been severely underfunded since our time there unless there have been suspicious deaths, the Auror department has their hands tied, they can’t actively investigate.  So, a small fire at some random publishing house hasn’t been adequately investigated.  From speaking with some of our old friends in the department if there were any investigations haven’t been openly tied to the man.  The man has a tremendous amount of political pull, if there has been any mention, it’s killed.” Frank sounded like he was gearing up for an epic rant.

 

Hermione found it amusing that ever since that Halloween back in 1981, or more rather the day afterwards.  Frank and Alice had both soured on the man, finding it difficult for them to explain some of the actions of Dumbledore away.  They had begun to think clearly, and while it might have been difficult to them at first, Hermione knew that it was probably thanks to Augusta Longbottom.

 

The summer would probably be incredibly interesting, Hermione thought to herself as she made her way back to her bedroom.  She was looking forward to getting a good night’s sleep, at least until she was waylaid by her Grandmother.

 

“Hermione, could we please speak to you for a moment, please?  It’s about that man you sent here during your fight at the end of the year.” Hermione thought to herself as she decided to follow her Grandmother’s beckoning finger.  The two women walked together through to the Queen’s private office, Hermione wondered to herself what she was going to learn.  She hadn’t heard anything yet with regards to what had happened to Sirius Black after she had cast that spell at him, she hoped that she wouldn’t have to answer to her conscience.

 

“Hermione this is Dr Bologna, he is the man that has been in charge of Black’s recovery, Dr Bolgna if you will tell Hermione what you found.”

 

“Hello Hermione, I’ve been treating Mr Black, as you know he has been waking up on and off for the past month, but he hasn’t been awake for long enough to make me feel comfortable questioning him.  I do feel comfortable enough to submit him to more tests.  Now, one of the things that I would probably be uncomfortable with was that after he had escaped from prison, he didn’t seem to receive any medical care.  Normally, at least in the Mundane World, we would expect to see any convicts who have escaped would not have received any adequate medical care since their escape.  What do I find more uncomfortable is the idea that Black’s care at Azkaban was not all that great, he has some wounds, both physical and psychological that he looks like he has sustained over the past ten or twenty years.  Is there any form of human rights in the Wizarding World?” Dr Bologna asked

 

“No, I haven’t been able to find anything so far.  There isn’t a form of the UDHR or the United Nationals Universal Declaration of Human Rights.  Even when we have spoken with some of the legal minds who are familiar with both the Wizarding World and the Mundane World haven’t been able to draw any form of definitive lines of comparison.” Hermione tried to explain before she before she looked over at her Grandmother.

 

“No, Hermione’s right, so far we’ve been able to make tracks into some of the legal worlds within the Wizarding World, and some of the more trusted investigative journalists, we haven’t been able to find any evidence of any written form of Human Rights.  It seems as if the people who have rights to a safe life, etcetera, etcetra simply because they’re rich or famous.  We haven’t liked that, and there isn’t any form of careful guilt within oversight within the prison system, so we haven’t been able to find any form of records about Mr Black’s medical conditions and check-ups within the prison.”

 

“Right, that’s troubling, but maybe it makes sense.  Kathleen always said that the wizarding world was woefully lacking when it came to following correct procedure.  Have you been able to find any other kind of medical notes or even psychological exams?” Dr Bologna asked, referring to his wife.

 

Kathleen had met her husband Jon when the two had been going to Hogwarts together; the two students had become best friends together.  Jon Bologna and Abbie had both been brilliant students; they had gotten brilliant results on both their OWLs and NEWTs.  The sky really should have been the limit for them.  The only thing that let the two down was as always their bloodline.

 

It was such a shame that the Wizarding World had dropped the ball and lost two great minds through their ignorance and sheer pig-headedness.  The fact that both Kathleen and Jon couldn’t trace their lineage back through Magical relatives meant that they weren’t trusted with anything more than menial jobs.  Perhaps though it was a great boon for the Royal family.  They had joined up with the Royal Wizarding Watch, both feeling like they wanted to change things for the better.

 

After leaving Hogwarts, the two had gotten married, and Jon had done even more exams to ensure that he could become a doctor.  Jon had become the personal doctor to Hermione, the Queen having long since known that she could trust the man to keep the knowledge that the Queen had another Grandchild quiet.  His wife, Kathleen who was his equal in every single way had entered into working on some of the lower echelons of the Ministry of Magic.  As a lowly administrative assistant, she could look through files and not be noticed.  Kathleen made comprehensive reports of anything she came across.  Having read some of the reports, Hermione had to admit that it seemed like the woman had missed a trick and should have become a novelist writing amazing fiction.  Hermione knew that if the woman were to write a book, she would almost certainly buy and read it.

 

“Kathleen hasn’t been able to find evidence of Black’s trial, which is troubling and seems to track with Black’s claims of him not getting a trial.  We can’t be sure if the Wizarding authorities tried to expunge any substantial proof of Black or if it’s further evidence of inept record-keeping.” Elizabeth spoke calmly, having read the same reports as Hermione.

 

The meeting droned on before Hermione was excused to go and get some rest.  Hermione was, she considered, tired, or at least tired enough to collapse into bed in a dead sleep. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own these characters, just wanted to get that out there, I forgot that I hadn't posted this. Sorry, I've been missing for so long, I've been going through some things, just check my AO3 (same username) if you ever want to find me. Review and let me know what you think!

Hermione could feel satisfied in the knowledge that for her anyway, it wasn’t an entirely wasted summer.  Sure, she still had to take relatively easy, her last bit of recovery – being to breathe after doing any strenuous activity, still wasn’t quite coming as easy as she hoped it would.  She was comfortable enough in her skin to admit that she sometimes had difficulties confessing when she found something difficult or awkward for her to do.  Something which her Grandmother (and Grandfather) were still trying to undo, her Grandma frequently muttered about Hermione’s stubborn nature as being the one to accept all of the blame.  Her Grandfather had simply laughed and told his wife that her stubborn nature had to come from somewhere.

 

At least Hermione had thought that was what he said; it was hard to tell through the laughter.  Her Grandmother had responded by impishly sticking out her tongue at her husband.  Hermione knew that if it were anybody else’s grandparents, she would find it sweet that they still loved each other enough to tease one another.  But sometimes, she found it a little nauseating when her Grandparents started acting all cutesy in front of her.  Sometimes she found it sweet, but when she was tired and grumpy, it was just irritating.

 

Hermione reflected that people might expect her grandfather to be an old-fashioned cynical conservative type man.  But Hermione could swear that her Grandfather was a sweet, understanding and knowledgeable man.  Sure, she could admit that he could stand to read around the topics sometimes, the things he tended to come out with at meet and greets were embarrassing and kept the PR team on their toes.  Sometimes, she suspected that the man was coming out with all this stuff, simply to amuse himself and his wife.

 

The man might be incredibly stubborn at times, but he could be particularly embarrassing when he got bored.  Hermione liked to joke that they should make sure that the man always had something on hand to entertain himself with, he could be such a child at times!  She was just glad that she didn’t have to worry about cleaning up those messes, she privately doubted that she had either the time or patience to sort them out.

 

As anyone who knew her well was probably going to point out, she wasn’t the type to suffer fools gladly.

 

Not even a little bit.

 

Going through some of her notes as she tried to make sense of what her next move should be, she realised that she couldn’t do everything simply by reading over some notes she had created.  Notes, it should be pointed out, from her additional lessons over the summer, not from her regular classes at Hogwarts, but the notes that she felt fairly certain were the ones that were going to get her out of this mess.  She would have to learn how she could work through the next few years and come out with as little mess on her person as possible.  Her Grandparents and such had stressed to her how important it was that she remained clear of any blowback.

 

If Hermione had to get her hands dirty behind the scenes to get some of the changes she wanted to be made, then so be it.  But she didn’t want to become a figure of distrust to the public openly, not when she still had changes she wanted to be made.

 

Hermione had already experienced what some of the dislike and hatred of the Wizarding Public felt like, and she didn’t want to go back to it.

 

She reckoned that her wrists still hurt thanks to the heaping helping of Bubotober Puss, she didn’t need any more lessons in that aspect thanks.

 

Making a small note to herself in the corner of her notes, she wanted to make some tighter changes to things like libel laws and the expectations private citizens could hold when it came to the press.  She would also like to make a point of hammering in on the Press that they should write articles based on silly (imagine) little things like school romances.  Who did Skeeter think she was writing that negatively about an anonymous (anonymous to her that was) school girl and schoolboy?

 

Didn’t anyone in the Wizarding World have any concept of boundaries?

 

It would seem that she would have to look into the matter.

 

For now, though, it was important that she get a clue about how to play the political game.  Which was why she was stuck in more tutoring sessions with an overly acerbic and angry Severus Snape, she did wonder if his anger was reflecting poorly on the man’s abilities.  The man might not hold a political office of his own, but Hermione reckoned that if the man had gotten enough practice kissing up to two masters, then he more than likely knew how to play the political game.

 

Or at least how not to have anyone question your abilities.

 

“One of the things that you have to keep in mind Miss Granger is how helpful it can be to play into someone else’s assumptions about you.  For example, if people expected me to behave like the overgrown bat of the dungeons, then they won’t look any closer at what I’m doing, leaving me free to do what I want.  For one thing, Potter the senior and his friends saw me as nothing more than Lily Evans creepy Dark Arts obsessed childhood friend and wanted to remove me from the board, so I have been pushed in that direction.  Now I could say that it was thanks to their systematic bullying which I have never been particularly happy about, I was pushed into the kind hands of the Dark Lord.  By cutting me off from all avenues of bettering myself, it became inevitable that I should become a Death Eater.  That’s not to say that I don’t accept any of the blame on my shoulders, but they didn’t help and how many Death Eaters were pushed into the position they were because of bullying?” Professor Snape explained as he leaned back against the desk behind him.

 

“Sir, are you saying that we should treat others how we want to be treated ourselves in case they later become instruments in our downfall?” Hermione asked trying to fidget under the lazy inspection that Professor Snape was giving her.

 

“Nothing so moralistic little girl.  The only reason I got accepted into the Dark Lord’s ranks, as a young Half-Blood with no apparent family name to boast off was that I was so talented at Potions Making.  I daresay that I was better than the Dark Lord on some day.  Most likely because I could give my all to the Potions in front of him rather than being pulled in a thousand different directions because someone always needed something to me like the Dark Lord had to deal with regards to the torture and atrocities that he had to commit.  Now, Albus too many names washed his hands of the Slytherins’ from the moment we are sorted into our Houses before First Year can begin.  If it doesn’t roar like a self-important lion, he doesn’t have that show much interest.  He can usually be pulled into displaying some interest in Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff students, but it’s nowhere near as much care he gives to Gryffindor students.  If your house mascot is a snake, then haha no, he isn’t interested and doesn’t give as much care.  Or even attention.”

 

“Right, but why do you refer to Him as the Dark Lord rather than the ah Lord title?”

 

“With THAT man, he designed the Dark Marks to leave us with a sharp, shooting, burning pain in our left forearms when the name is mentioned in our presence.  For some reason, when someone says the name and not with a complete show of respect, then we get a complete pain.  If however, someone says the name with respect clear in their tone, then I’d assume we would get a feeling like a pleasurable erotic sort of feeling.  For the most part though, Death Eaters, or at least the sane ones, as sane as one can be and still be a Death Eater, tend to avoid saying the name.  Lestrange for one says the name from time to time in private or among other Death Eaters, but when she does it, I’m told that’s it a feeling of psychotic, enhanced erotic feelings, with a slight hint of torture.  She was at the Department of Mysteries fiasco wasn’t she?”

 

“Yes, she was, I ran into her once down there, she seemed like she was more intent on making an even bigger show of how weak we were in comparison to her.  I managed to miss her; she was more fixated on Neville or even Harry than me.  Why is that, do you know?” Hermione asked as she watched as Professor Snape flicked his wand towards the shut door.  Hermione could see the outline of the door, briefly shine gold, while she could hear the locks of the door engaging, she wondered if she was about to be told something of vital importance.  Judging by the man’s careful reaction, she was comfortable in assuming so.

 

“Lestrange is a bit of a difficult one, she is psychotic that’s for sure, and she believes that only the Dark Lord’s mission matters.  But she is so focused on Longbottom because she blames him and his parents, for her having to spend so much in Azkaban.  In her mind, if she had been able to torture the Longbottom parents, then she may have found out where her precious Master was hiding all those years.”

 

“But isn’t it her fault that she was locked away for so long?  Why would she blame others for her shortcomings?  What made her attack the Longbottoms in the first place?”

 

“She believes in the Dark Lord’s cause above all others, so when on that Halloween she sensed the Dark Lord becoming for want of a better term, asunder.  She didn’t understand that and wanted to find answers.  Thankfully, she didn’t remember then, that I was the one who gave the Dark Lord the original prophecy that would eventually lead to his downfall.  We can thank the Dark Lord’s inherent paranoia for that.  It wasn’t just her stay at Azkaban that broke her mind; we have to remember that the woman was not all there mentally speaking, she was always the type to get off on causing someone else pain, and she, in particular, loved causing chaos.  At various points, the Dark Lord would hold revels were some Death Eaters got off on causing pain and suffering for others.”

 

“Right, but if she was the one who decided to hide behind her Master’s skirts, I’m sorry I don’t know the exact terminology there, and go out and attempt to attack people.  If she was in her way deciding to go on the attack, then surely nobody else can be blamed for it?  She doesn’t blame anyone else for it does she?”

 

“Yes, she blames Pettigrew for pointing her Master in that direction.  Remember that logic and linear thinking are not her strong suits.  The only reason she hasn’t yet attacked the man is that she is aware that Pettigrew was the one who initially nursed her Master back to health and brought him back to life.  She still holds blame for all those, who she sees as not having done enough to find her Master.  In her mind, I think she sees him as her Master, don’t forget that she was raised a Black, within a very old-fashioned conservative view holding family.  She wouldn’t have seen anything wrong with her seeing him as a Master because to her he holds all the cards and she would willingly go to her death for such a man if he so asked her.  I suspect that in her mind she has elevated the Man to a position above her husband.  At least in a sexual relationship.  Don’t get me wrong and feel sorry for Rodolphus Lestrange, because, without a doubt, he is just as bad as his psychotic as his wife.  I haven’t had a lot of dealings with the pair of them, but they are undoubtedly creepy and the so-called High Priests of the Religion of the Dark Lord.  If you can, heed my advice and avoid them.”

 

“Well, I was hardly going to invite them for tea was I?” Hermione shot back.

 

“Funny” Professor Snape smirked before continuing “but seriously avoid them.  Now to play the politics game, one that goes against your Gryffindor values, you need to be able to feel comfortable in throwing others under the bus sometimes, simply to get a leg up on your competition.”

 

Hermione nodded, she was considering some of the information that had been imparted to her, even if it had been against her will.  At least, she thought to herself, that her whole life had been in some respects leading up until this moment.  She may have chosen that she didn’t want to be a prominent Royal, and thanks to her parents, she had found some of this a lot easier than it really should have been.  Sure, it was a bit irritating that she didn’t get to stand on the balcony with the rest of her extended family and wave, but it was what it was.  At least, Hermione was able to stand in the room before they went out and she didn’t have to worry about the public’s perception of her.

 

Or at least, she hadn’t had to worry about the public perception of her, because she was an anonymous private citizen until Skeeter had decided to write vile things about a schoolgirl in a national newspaper.  Hermione wasn’t sure if Skeeter would have cared too much if Hermione’s true status as a Royal was to come out, she didn’t like it.  She found it to be callous and uncaring.

 

Hermione reflected that if she were more sensitive if she hadn’t grown up around people the British press loved to hound, the lies about her would probably have broken her.  She wasn’t even sure if the Wizarding World recognised mental illnesses, and would understand some of the underlying causes of suicide.  She decided that it was pretty unlikely, after all, it didn’t seem as if the ordinary public (or even politicians) cared too much about one another.

 

For pities sake, the government (such as there was one) were so corrupt that she honestly didn’t think they had it within them to care a damn about the people they supposedly represented.  If shew as allowed to become a politician, there may be some archaic by-laws surrounding the matter, she would want to change that.  For now, though, it bore wondering if there were even such things as open and fair elections.

 

That was something else for her to put into her back pocket and continue to think about.

 

“Miss Granger, I know that face, you are going to have to focus if you don’t want to continue to waste my time.” Professor Snape reprimanded.

 

“Oh, sorry Sir, I’m still thinking about Skeeter, is there anything I can do to stop that woman?” Hermione asked.

 

“No, you didn’t particularly handle that little crisis very well.  If you had been thinking smartly, you should have realised just how bad it could be for you to overplay your hand.  I understand that it was ahh unpleasant for you to read those lies about yourself in the newspaper, and to have mindless sheep like one Molly Weasley to needlessly believe those lies.  Thanks to your status as a quiet Royal, you were able to escape without people taking a lot of notice of you, right?  As such you were able to escape a lot of character assassinations on your person.  The moment you felt that your character was being attacked, you automatically went on the attack.  Which I can understand, but you really shouldn’t have gone directly for the nuclear option.  While it may have been momentarily pleasurable for you to lock her into a glass jar, it allowed feelings of resentment and anger to be harboured towards your person.  You can hold only a short leash over the woman; sure she was able to write that article for you.  Now, though you’ve managed to overspend yourself in that regard, she knew exactly who it was that got her into trouble, that locked her up for all of those months.  If you had been a Slytherin, you would have known how to hold onto that information and milk it.”

 

“Sir, that sounds like an incredibly lonely way to live” Hermione lightly commented raising her eyebrow as she leaned back in her seat, folding her arms across her body, as she considered the man in front of her in a thoughtful way.

 

“Heh, well it’s the Slytherin way, it may not seem like the most immediate satisfaction delivering method, but it does have results.  After all, a good Slytherin is several steps ahead of all others.  It can make us such shrewd negotiators if our minds are always working five to ten steps ahead of our adversaries then it will be hard to take advantage of us.”

 

“Sounds exhausting,” Hermione remarked, raising her eyebrow as she looked over at the man in front of her.

 

“It can be” Professor Snape allowed “have you got any questions?” Professor Snape leaned back allowing Hermione the chance to ask questions.

 

It went completely against the man’s ethos, to give Hermione the chance to ask questions.  Hermione privately suspected that the man allowed himself a small measure of relaxation, he was probably under a lot of strain while he was still in Hogwarts.  To be fair to the man, it was probably incredibly stressful constantly having to wonder which one of your students were reporting back on your every move to their overzealous parents; she was sure that it was nothing to sneeze at.

 

“Okay, but do we need to be concerned about her thought processes?  You’ve already said for yourself, that she isn’t exactly a bastion of sanity, do we need to concern ourselves with how she thinks?”

 

“Now, normally, I would say no, but if you come up against her again, you need to be forewarned.  Knowledge is power after all Granger!”

 

Somehow, the rest of the summer would pass this way for Hermione, it might be completely and utterly boring, but she knew that she couldn’t ever stop pulling in this knowledge.  At least, definitely not if she wanted to survive the coming tasks with ease.


End file.
